
















, I : . \ ■ , 


■•ail'-'' 


? ^•■1*^ * ' 
'v V^ •' 

•■‘ 'Ok ./• ' ■ ' t 




:r- 


• * 

•/. t 


::v^Sg«>-V 


, •»,. V r 



. • 


.^1 • ■< >', ^ 4 ^ 


1. 





■r’j 


.* 












■ *' > 


k w • 

A''v^vv: • .V 


L* 



f • .'U ' 

>1* 


• • '. 

» * 


>t^Sv 


rv 


4f 




, ' 

•*♦ 


i" T'-'-. 

J i' ’ y • k 
f yv . 

A''” ■ 

'Q^ 

' ^ Vi 


‘ » 




v . ‘.t 



^ * 


» -‘ft '* v: ^ 


t 

■►.■ ■■■» ' 


%. 




-.\K 






' • * !l ■ 

-V V.> • 


r\v - -• 




•M ;., 


't 

I ^ 1' 

V.' <.• 


. j\ /'A- 


v 



1.V 


^ ' ' 






pji 




■?:' >:■' ■ 


V ‘. 


• >' 


' ^x> •r'" '^ 






* ’ y • 

'x . n-ip*- 




; . f 


,*.1 


! »4 


• ' r,-’.. . >• • ". 

^ ' •. t '»*..» 


hur . .* ' • ' 


>> 

- * ' • ’U' ■ -* 

• . • * ' >• ^ 


t 

w * 



* 


8 ^ 




•./ 






V, 


t • 


r. 1'^ i.’ >. 


:% ^ s. 

H .• k. 


•MLW^ 'Lr* ' 

xl^V ^ , '■ 


v’Tjk*' 








7 






. -|V‘. • 


'4m 

>*> Pqv * •Yv-t*’* 

‘^Sr* ' ♦•. S" * \y \ 

‘BM# 




.y* - 


r '*--- • >1®^*' ' ta>r 

"■- “""?!■ ■ > .'^ - ^ 





I ^ 

A 4^44^ 




Vi ’ IT 


.r.r' ■ '"' . 




f. 

• i., 

i^' '\JL 


D >K 

rr. 


N 


'y/' ■.‘.i'-’^fy ' 





•■«» 

• .V 


‘ ■' * ■'■•.» ‘‘/^ASSTOvy 

• •.«& • 'J. ^ ^ ,. V '. 

•» - K ' 


V > 


'r-» ■- *' 


4 y 






fw I 







/ 

■•V 


•’v> 


'i' 




^ 4 i 


% '/ -t *••:. I-'-' • ^ ‘ 




*<<■ 

Cf 



V’‘ V ' ' r 5" 

^•• X nV'ir ' 


. V ''■•■A^'’< 

r ..I. ' ' ■■ 


C'^: 




- 3 .» 


« , . 


' I 


: V. 




s * * ^ ’ 

. /iV **' 






\ ;»* ■•.• 




• vN. - ^ * 7 ;/^ .« 

«s 


'♦1 


:> • ; 


• I 


rA ' i& . • « 

•t 'r’*^, . ..M 


? - ‘ •% 

' r i* 


. . s 


Wira-., 









,-r> 





, 1 ■■• ^ 

-C-* * 

V- r; 



• ••■t'V. 

r 


• tA- <«i 

t, 

* 

4-4 *•' 


• ^ 


1. ♦ 




■-'■•*'■ ■ . ZJ,* 


>1* 

,/ 


•^> ^ • -J 




. -y? #• 

■.■ K . ■ ^•'' 

i/ftjtVVV ^ i , >ite'/.;y , 


t 

» • 



L. 

X f • * J*^ A • 




>- .. 


•' V 


* ^ *1 

A 'fz- • '• 


^ *• ■ V <x' 

M ^ ^ . ■• ’ i 



vt 




^ • * •a ,'u^-i f • * 'i. ■ tfe 

W5?:-.- V* a’^ ♦ .•': ' rJ -,/. V if,.' V ■' ■ 


• .y ». . , » 

• . . '*» . • - • 


t- 

•' \ 


’• X X*/ ^ f K 


'V 


, ^ '^‘T; f 

. ■ -is 




/ 




V 





^ iEW ToEIC %HTLCnillfJo 



BY MAXIMILLIAN. 


1 




\ 


•'V 

>4 






V 





i , 





t 


% 


COPYRIGHTED 1891 
BY 

SARAH CLASS 



s 





a*' ' 

WB • ..^i ■i .^m'.' A y T*^"t>fa'~ ■ ' ’ ^/ .•’* '' ••’*,■. ■»’' ''i- 

T’*' ;*V/'V >...‘ v,r ’/' .i 

.',■ V,, ‘r^-. ■ ... . ■ ..' 1 W',r^-',\ ^ 

* 'j ‘ . ' ' , ■ . 

■■';.■/•■ 

(•' ,!: i. ■,; ' V 




i /■' 


« / 

I 


4 1 



.. -v' .■• j’?i 




•. * • 


• I 


4 4 * 


L 




tk}>, «BS ■’>> ■‘- ■■ ‘ “ 

■'■■■ ■ ' 

WW.'r-'v '.V-. 


‘;i^ ^.' 

•i 




>-’j^-. . . 

.•■V '••:■ ', 


fi 4 ' f * 

ITV 'v *'-'* 


• i ^ 

■ r* ' , -^ 







>, 


':■ ■■■. . • -'.- r..,;4l • ,. ^ 

‘'-V/VA . *. 

;>,'•• ’'rJ' ••■■- •••‘ 3 H 











I '■' • 


. ' ® ■ ;": ' • . 




'r )■ f • -^ I . 




' ":. '■' ^ 

. " - # • ‘■■‘ V 4 -W *'' Cll 

< ' o . IrMU «n \L' 




• / f 


n 




m ■■ 




r 




l.: 


, -li* 


i.,r 


iV^ 


/, 


'*. 

A. ’ 


■» 


. ..V' ••■^ *'>vf-' .^‘j 


• <1 


sV 

r' . •! 


* ' ' .V #Jr/ 


A 


A I 


:’> * . 1 

■ > # i 


/■ 






, * ,» 


^1 


* * * * - 

1 > ' v'” 

!♦. -r- 






' ' -I 




. • . ( '. 


t ':.' • 


j. 

• 


: '- ■ ''V\ '^-S^. 'l^^.l;.' ■' > ■' ■ .1" 



>v;. 


> y 




• • < 

.-•- A :• > 

\ ■ . 

' /, 


T 


■ .' • -Avt''-/' ' ■'I 

’ssM 

*** *^^^^ 

« . ■ . A •? 

^ v^',- . 





' -1^ 


>. i ‘«. 

* A 




MBlvT-v. ' 


. k.i 


, 0 ' ■? , 

>- • . . 

• s' 


* ^ » Tk » I « 

I . . N ftk* •-W 



. «* ^ 






t '* ' ■* I 








■ • ‘O' 

r, ru ... .^7r ^ •■'•/' * , * 

■’ c: 4 :-. .^' - ■ 

■;■*•: - r. >' '. ^ ^ 





’ .‘-H 





• V' -Sr*/ 'V 

'• ■- ■ . 

’I ' 1 





PEEFACE. 


In writing this novel, I have studiously avoided swelling 
its pages with long drawn out descriptions usually thought 
essential by writers of fiction, such as overwrought love 
scenes, the estrangement of lovers brought about by intrigue 
and unnatural causes, villains triumphant over noble heroes 
and heroines, and the like ; so unreal, and seldom true to 
the life, finishing with All ’s well, that ends well.” 

From a sense of conviction that fiction more akin to life 
cannot fail to entertain, but wdll also tend to instruct the 
mind, purposes every author should hold dear to his heart, 
I have in this, my first effort, adhered to both principles. 

Poetry is the diction of an imagination, and the poet may 
entirely digress from the real, his object being to uplift our 
thoughts towards the highest pinnacle of the mind’s realm. 
Prose should produce, as near as possible, a picture of life, 
in which we can recognize our undreamed of selves ; and 
that which may become an incentive to us for imitation, or 
will make to us odious all the author has held up in execra- 
tion. Delectable descriptions of an imaginary existence, of 
improbable heroes and heroines, sink too deep into the 
minds of the young and unfit them for the prosaic life 
within their reach, that might not have been void of happi- 
ness to them, but for the ignis fatuus of an overwrought 
romantic imagination. ' 

It is a stubborn fact that there is romance in truth, but 
little truth in romance. Let not the mind be crowded with 


6 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


anomalies, impossible of realization, which must tend to a 
non-reconciliation with what there is allotted to us ; and we 
will conform ourselves more readily to the real romance of 
our existence. The millions of misspent and shipwrecked 
lives, is not alone owing to tlie fact that only a minority of 
the actors on the stage of life can climb to prominence, 
affluence, and competency, or are qualified to satisfy the 
cravings of the heart ; but in a great measure to a phantasm, 
a proclivity for the unattainable, which overstrained fiction 
has so temptingly placed before the susceptible mind — the 
taste of which is denied them — and they can find no solace 
in what stern reality offers. 

Men entering the arena of life, to fight for an existence, 
are apt to rub off the impressions conceived in early dreamy 
youth. It is the woman, who, unable to divest herself 
of the finer clay of which she is formed, remains fettered to 
her dreamy land ; for which nature had elected her, and 
romancers nourished, who suffers most. She dreams visions 
of happiness and bliss, in the love of one, whom her 
imagination has placed upon a high pedestal, and on which 
the elected of her heart endeavors to maintain himself. 
Later, tiring of the mask, he descends from it with impu- 
nity, caring little for the effect his descent may have upon 
her. If blighted hopes and crushed hearts seek forgetful- 
ness in the frivolities of life, and thereby destroy a home, 
in which happiness was denied her, is the woman solely to 
blame ? 

Nothing will cure frail human nature from novel reading ; 
it has been ever thus ! Thus it will continue ; no harm can 
come of it, if fiction and fanciful pictures of men and women 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


7 


are made life-like specimens of current life. I have drawn 
characters from immediate life as. they are, or ought, or 
ought not, to exist. If I succeed in interesting the reader, 
I will rejoice at my effort in having kept close to my line 
of demarkation, viz.: the possible, and the natural. 


Kc'. .it. ■ i- ^-^ ■ ■ . • ' ^ <‘ ■"' c ’ * 

Hwfr * ^ 3 >- *i« V%v. 

' .h -M :- . 


^ ^ ' 4 .^ I** ' ^ pPi 




■ * ^ -r 







^ '.- 


I 

\ 


^ -fV if 

' V *" * 


‘?''/, ^l5 ■ xV 


• jl 

l-l 






';'^- 

■^v: rv •... 

-sat> ^ • . /» >. 


^pfhl:t ■•: 

.v^”-»*' 


;* 



J < - 2 


' •• : -•', ■ t>l . 


»».« 


f 


r>_ .; ; 

► * / 


\ • 




1 . , 


f r . ■ / ‘ 

'v: ^ ^ • 

>%- » ’ ' .1 • •• - . 

V'- ..•• > ■ •■•' 


•r' ,•*.•■ ■ 

. f * 

*’■ *.. 




;r;>v . 


^ fc*'‘flT'.,'S;' 

-.Kai- - ' 


J,.' . ■= ■ “. 


^ .-t ■ v'?'^ ■'■'.'i-'- i^Sf 

' ’ ■'• ‘•' •I;*'*' ■ *?fii'>}rJ'''‘-V‘'. ■ 

■.. "■■ ■ ter- '“\'« 

, Tfc- SCiW^V:? , .: A; , Tv 


HE^V.’^a 4 ^’V T.- ..- y- , ■ - ^ ,, 

-i*' tf* , • iv '• ,’■•=■■■ • \/ '' ■ 

EBa?ig yvi?^j* -T. : : • *. •-• ■ 

awioHSE? ■ • S’- ' V"' > ■ ' • . - ■ ! 

mmyw-:- ■• ■■ • ■ • ■ ■ 


'' •. • ■■ 
^ 


Z' 




*’ ■ - '■ -V- ■ i? 

•f i.iiijt: i<^' •:’ iXarM 


•* I • 






I 


f) » . J' 


:>-*• ': 



"K* 



^V- 


■» . * A ' 


I ^ t ' • ' 




V- --"i ’ ■ 

‘/’-v-V ; 

4 ^ .1 • I j 


X X.«' Ti' 

• v. t - ” 

•:' . ' .1^ 


•»• 'V 





. . > . * ' 


■ V .- ^* . . ; :>* 




*v'. ••*'. .• » ■'«^.r-»', - 

fSMk&fM'- - -'- ■■ ■ 

' V' .' 






’•■ • V 


HkEI, £ 5s'3i.v;;j-.- _ • ^' '^ 51 , KB 

kf''’' ' • 


. > • I -Mi ,, 

■ 'i* ■ V .' '■ i . ' .■' ',' '• ,- . aui-' -. 

mmM ■ ...... 



CHAPTEE I. 


The year 1864: will forever be remembered in the annals 
of tiie history of the United States, for that year witnessed 
the closing scenes of the fierce struggle raging between the 
N^orth and South. Life at that epoch went on,, not only in 
the usual routine, but even more gaily than ever. Balls, 
parties, flirting, wooing, and giving in marriage, more than 
usual. The broken peace of the Union had given an impe- 
tus to existence, and a greater zest for enjoyments, snatched 
like a soldier’s revel upon the eve of battle. 

The town, which for the purpose of our story we will call 
Morgan ville, had never been so gay as in the beginning of 
that year, even if daily bulletins brought the sad tidings of 
thousands slain and maimed, thereby multiplying the num- 
bers of widows, orphans and the bereaved homes of parents. 

The town was crowded with people. There was more 
business now than ever before. Money circulated freely, 
and with the violent jars of party strife came a more ani- 
mated spirit of recklessness and gaiety. The blood circu- 
lated with rapidity iu the sluggish veins of the hitherto 
dormant town, and it was fast undergoing metamorphosis. 
The former dull place had been converted into a thriving, 
and rapidly growing, prosperous city. 

Morganville stood — we may as well say stands — at the 
head of a picturesque, land-locked bay, surrounded by 
sloping hills and rich corn fields, divided into larger and 
smaller farms, and is screened by a range of hills of mod- 


10 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


erate elevation, which are termed by some mountains. Its 
pier, and a few scattered fishing hamlets around the bay, 
added to the picturesque aspect of the place, of which many 
natives spoke with pride, and which will never be forgotten 
by them, wherever fortune may lead or drive them. 

Ten years previous to the opening of this chapter, the 
inhabitants of Morganville consisted of a clergyman, a 
doctor, tlie postmaster, a few custom-house officials, and 
second-class storekeepers, all seemingly gentlemen, a few 
maiden and widow ladies, with the usual artisans, laborers, 
and lounging young men ; some of the latter connected 
with the wealthy farming population. Now, thriving fac- 
tories, palatial stores and houses mark the sites of former 
plain cottages, dingy stores and vacant lots, wherein the 
cows held their siestas. 

Among the noted families of the place are the Powells, 
the Browns, the Armitages and the Grants. 

On the 14th of March, 1864, Morganville was startled 
by the sad tidings that Colonel James Powell had met with 
a soldier’s heroic death, and that Mrs. Powell, on hearing 
of her sad bereavement, had given birth to a baby girl — her 
first born — herself dying an hour later. The faithful wife 
had joined her beloved husband in eternity. 

The infant, an orphan in the hour of its birth, aroused the 
sympathy of the good people of Morganville. Mothers 
with infants vied in offering to take care of the orphan babe. 
Judge Brown, the only surviving brother of Mrs. Powell, 
placed the infant with Mrs. Betts, a poor, but respectable 
woman, worthy of the trust placed in her. 

The child grew up amongst the kind-hearted people of 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


II 


the place, to whom her spirit, her childish beauty and en- 
gaging innocence greatly endeared her. 

Having reached the age of twelve, Helen was placed by 
her guardian in the care of Mrs. Loewenhaupt, the prin- 
cipal of a well-known educational institution. 

The kind-hearted lady embraced the orphan tenderly, 
saying: Yes, dear child, I will love you, and be to you 
more than a teacher which promise she adhered to faith- 
fully. 

Helen, from girlhood, had thought and acted much for 
herself, so far as she was capable. Through this, and from 
an inherent original strength of character, sprung later her 
mental qualities : the habit of self-command and self-reli- 
ance, enabling her to act in all emergencies with a ripened 
understanding and decision. Her mind took the noblest 
form, even before she could have realized her feelings, or 
reasoned upon her convictions, what was due to herself. 
Nothing base or mean could approach her, much less taint 
her mind. If her character is to be understood, it is neces- 
sary to state that it is embodied in the phrase : I disdain 
to do this, or I despise that, because I think it is not right.” 

Helen remained under Mrs. Loewenhaupt’s care until she 
had attained her eighteenth year. She had grown remark- 
ably tall and graceful. The swan-like bend of her neck 
and head, the curve of the back, and the fall of her shoul- 
ders into the graceful arms, made her in reality one of those 
models for the sculptor of which so many are described in 
books, and so very few are seen in real life. She looked 
neither a Juno nor a Minerva, but more like a youthful 
Hebe upon a high scale. Her brilliant and healthy com- 


12 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


plexion was exactly wliat we desire to see. SometimeSj if 
provoked, a haughty expression would gather in an instant 
and cloud her face. It was but a passing shadow, however, 
flying before those sunny ambushed smiles and dimples 
lurking in the cleft chin, or about the corners of her moutli, 
in which her better self took refuge, and played at bo-peep 
with the fascinated gazer. 

My dear Helen,” said her teacher, and more than 
friend, on the last day of the girhs happy sojourn under her 
roof, nature has not been chary with you, but I feel more 
pleased to know that you are otherwise well fitted to enter 
the world of a woman’s life, in which you cannot fail to 
find and confer happiness. Be always true to yourself, and 
if clouds come to darken some hours of your precious life, 
from which none of us are exempt, the sunshine in your own 
heart will surely assist you to dispel them.” 

Helen entered the world under the guardianship and 
care of her uncle. Judge Brown. 

Robert Brown, as the Judge was called, when a young 
man possessed ample means, enabling him to follow the 
bent of his inclinations. He led a roving life, plucking 
from it, in full measure, the ingredients most palatable to 
his taste, until satiated. At core sound, he returned to his 
native place unscathed by the contact, and wiser by the ex- 
perience gained. 

We meet him a man about fifty-five years of age, who 
had attained distinction in his profession, and universally 
respected by all who knew him. 

On Helen, the only child of his dearly beloved and never 
forgotten sister, he lavished all the warmth of his tender 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 13 

heart, and the orphan girl clung to dear Uncle Bob, as she 
called him, with cliild-like tenderness. 

“ My dear uncle,’’ Helen once addressed him, you must 
have been crossed in love, have you not ? How can I think 
otherwise, when you, to whom home is so endeared, and who 
has a heart that feels so tenderly for his kindred, be she 
even his sister’s child, lias chosen the solitary life of 
celibacy.” 

‘^Marriage, dear Helen,” replied the Judge, is like a 
lottery — a game of hazard — that may shipwreck our life, 
and rob us of the peace of our soul. Love, my dear child, 
pertains too often of the flesh only ; ’t is too often but a 
flery temperament, a delirium ; a state in which our reason- 
ing becomes impaired, and what we believed to be love 
proves to have been but a passion. I did not meet the 
woman of my soul ; love for flesh and blood alone could not 
have built that sanctuary of a home before which alone I 
could have remained a steadfast worshiper.”" 

Are you sure that you have looked for a soul-mate in 
the right direction ?” said Helen. I hope and trust that 
the world is not wanting in good and true women, and that 
one need not look for such in vain — Diogenes-like, looking 
for honest men.” 

There, dear, I stand reprimanded,” said the Judge. 
‘‘You are right; there have been, there are, and always 
will be, scores of good and noble women living ; and as you 
remarked, I may have looked for such in wrong spheres and 
places, and must now take meekly the punishment of grim 
bachelorhood. I don’t mind it, though, having you to cheer 
and brighten my lonely days.” 


H 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


But I may leave you, dear uncle, some of these coming 
days, unless, like yourself, I should decline to take chances 
in the lottery of life, as you call it,” said Helen, with a 
smile. ‘‘Until I chance it, and as long a*s you will it. I’ll 
gladly share your home.” 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


15 


CHAPTER II. 

Judge Brown and Helen attended the reception given in 
honor of the nuptials of Mr. and Mrs. Armitage, Jr. 

“ Who is that handsome girl, posing so gracefully, next 
to that elderly gentleman?’’ inquired Frank Van Alden, of 
Mrs. Armitage, Sr., the mother of the bridegroom. 

‘‘A Miss Powell ; and the gentleman with her, is Judge 
Brown, her uncle and guardian,” replied the lady. “ Let 
me introduce you to her ; she is indeed a lovely girl, an or- 
phan, and an heiress.” 

Van Alden stopped suddenly in his progress towards Helen. 

Mrs. Armitage looked at him in surprise. Had he 
changed his intention of accepting the introduction she had 
proffered ! At last she asked, “ Is the lady less attractive to 
you, because of her being an heiress ?” 

‘‘ Look,3Irs. Armitage,” replied Van Alden, with a smile, 

the young lady is now besieged by a dozen gentlmen ; I 
would be the thirteenth. It is an unlucky numbet, and 
therefore I beg to be excused, for the present, at least.” 

Later in the evening, Helen returned from a quadrille to 
the reception room in company with the bride, who led her 
towards the balcony, where her husband and Van Alden 
were chatting. 

Miss Powell, a very dear friend of mine,” said the 
bride, ‘‘Mr. Van Alden, a friend of my husband and there- 
fore also a friend of mine,” and added, pleasantly, “ you 
must become friends too.” 


i6 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


‘‘ I gladly avail myself of every opportunity to make 
friends/’ said Helen, with a smile. 

‘^1 have no doubt,” replied Van Alden, ‘^that on every 
occasion, if you wish it, you add them to your list. I will 
deem it an honor to be counted one of them.” 

A bit of flattery, thought Helen ; but permissible ; unlike 
the nothingness she so often had heard on similar occasions. 

Van Alden conversed with dignified reserve, without the 
usual apparent anxiety to please, like the many, when face 
to face with handsome women. 

At last he said, I perceive that you are not a devotee 
to terpsichorean pleasures, which must be regretted by 
many gentlemen present this evening.” 

I do not hold Puritan-like doctrines, that dancing is 
Satan’s invention,” said Helen, mirthfully ; I take part in 
many, but do not care for dances that exhaust the body, and 
therefore tlie mind.” 

‘^Exhaust the mind, you say?” said Van Alden. ‘‘I 
thought that on sucli occasions one does not heed bodily 
fatigue, because of the pleasure the mind evinces amidst 
the brilliancy of surroundings, the delightful strains of 
music — such as we hear now — and because of a conscious- 
ness of admiration your sex inspires ; such influences, do 
they tire the mind ?” 

I hardly know how to reply,” said Helen. The joyous 
faces, full of mirth and frolic, undoubtedly denote pleasure ; 
but notice the panting for breath — the jostling against one 
anotlier ; think of the heat, the lassitude, and headache fol- 
lowing in their wake, and perhaps you may justify my 
dislike for their kind.” 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


17 


“What do you think of Mr. Van Alden, Helen/’ asked 
the bride, later in the evening. 

“ I don’t think of him at all, just now,” replied Helen, 
with a mirthful twinkle in her eyes ; “ but as soon as my 
thoughts revert to the gentleman, I will communicate them 
to you, Phoebe, should you still feel inclined to know 
them.” 

Van Alden had received from the Judge and Helen an 
invitation to call. Having availed himself of the welcome 
offer, he prolonged his sojourn in Morganville. 

On the eve of his departure for New York, he and Helen 
were walking in the garden attached to the Judge’s palatial 
residence. He spoke of his regrets, because of the necessity 
of his leaving Morganville, and of his intention to return in 
the near future. “ I must confess,” he said, “ that I have 
spent the most pleasant hours under your hospitable roof ; 
may I hope that on my return, I will be again a welcome 
visitor ? Such an assurance. Miss Powell, will heighten the 
pleasure my anticipated coming gives me and will hasten 
its advent.” 

“ If my assurance of your welcome will effect all that you 
have kindly stated, I give the same with pleasure,” said 
Helen. To which she added, “ My dear uncle joins me in 
what I have said, and expresses through me his regrets be- 
cause of his enforced absence this evening.” 

Van Alden had left. Helen, after re-entering the hou’se, 
seated herself at tlie open window, from whence she could 
discern his receding figure. 

“ He is a fine specimen of the human mould, that quick- 
ens the pulsations of the heart, as Uncle Bob says,” mused 


i8 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


Helen. I admit that I admire tliat handsome man very 
much ! and that I felt pleased with his attentions and the 
deference with which he treated me ; and that he has not 
taken me for an object that must be amused and courted 
with flattery — the outcome of ignorance and deceit.” 

If men really admire us,” Helen had once said to a 
friend, they should express it least with words.” 

“ But if they have no chance to express it otherwise ?” 
inquired her friend. 

What use to express it at all,” replied Helen. 

Our heroine was conscious of the fact that Yan Alden 
admired her. “ He admires many others likewise ; perhaps 
more than he does me. He may have felt pleased to have 
met me and to beguile some of his leisure hours. Well ! he 
was welcome to the pastime I afforded him ; for have not I 
received a similar advantage — and, like myself, he will soon 
forget the incident ; that is the offshot of it !” With these 
thoughts Helen left the window. At the shrill whistle of 
the incoming express, her thoughts once again reverted to 
the departed guest. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


19 


CHAPTER HI. 

Frank Van Alden belonged to one of the foremost fam- 
ilies in New York. He had lost both his parents in a 
terrible railway catastrophy. By his father s will, Reuben 
Yan Alden, the brother of the testator, was appointed 
Frank’s guardian. The will stipulated that, after a collegi- 
ate course, and a journey abroad, his son should enter the 
counting house of Yan Alden & Co., of which the testator 
had been a member. But for the stern command of his 
guardian, Frank would have preferred his life of pleasure 
and ease in Paris and London, to the routine of business 
awaiting him at home. 

Arrived at home, his guardian remonstrated with him 
because of his extravagance abroad, and insisted on his ap- 
plying himself with as much zest to the career his father 
had chosen for him, as he had shown in the pursuit of 
pleasure. 

If he had to comply with the mandates of his uncle, for 
which he felt no inclination, he would at least please him- 
self in his mode of living. He was soon the boon com- 
panion of the gay, and the gayest of them all. On his 
becoming of age, he entered into the uncontrolled possession 
of a princely fortune, besides an interest in the firm of Yan 
Alden & Co. 

At the time he is introduced to the reader, he had 
attained his twenty-eighth year. A strikingly handsome 
man, he is one of the foremost and most popular young 
bachelors in the State. He loved pleasure and lived but to 


20 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


enjoy life, everybody and everything catering to his tastes ; 
his existence is a continuous, intoxicating draught. 

Receiving from Ralph Arrnitage, a former college chum 
and boon companion, a pressing invitation to be best man 
at his approaching nuptials with Phoebe Grant, Frank had 
complied, as we are aware, with his friend’s request. On 
their meeting, Yan Alden exclaimed, “Old boy, I am really 
anxious to meet your Phoebe ; tell me, in confidence, how 
she managed to make a benedict of such a wild chap as you 
have been ; of such a hale and jolly bacholor, you told me 
you intended to remain. What a priceless recipe hers would 
be to our matrimonially inclined charmers !” 

“ Phoebe is, indeed, a dear, good girl, to whom the jolly 
bachelor, as you call me, had to surrender, nolens volens^'^ 
said Ralph. “In Morganville we have but the routine of 
work ; the only excitement we know of is courtship, love 
and marriage. With an indescribable longing for the for- 
mer frolics and gaities of our set, I felt at one time like 
joining you again, but my father’s heart being set on his 
only son becoming his successor in business, to earn the 
dollars, instead of only spending them, and remembering 
my filial duty, I tried my very best to please him. It was 
a pretty hard task at first. Now I am not only reconciled, 
but well satisfied with my lot.” 

“And you are about to crown your happiness with matri- 
mony,” remarked Van Alden, with a smile. 

Ralph gazed into his friend’s face and said,- “ I know 
your idea about love and matrimony. I once held similar 
views. Now, I am glad to state, that I will make Phoebe 
my wife, because of my deep love and affection for her. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


21 


Frank,” Ralph continued, you are blessed with every- 
thing life can bestow on mortals, except the blessing of the 
love of parents and for parents. Had you, like myself, wit- 
nessed their life of devotion for each other, and felt their 
love for you, their care for your welfare and well being, 
untainted in mind and heart, you would have become as 
readily a disciple to their life as myself.” 

Your parents are one of the few exceptions. Mine 
may have been like them as regards domestic bliss. How 
many such exceptions will you find ?” asked Van Alden. 

‘^All our acts in life, if they are the outcome of our fol- 
lies, must entail on us misery ; not less, an ill assorted mar- 
riage,” said Ralph. ‘‘ Marriage requires so close an intimacy 
that there must be a perfect agreement and sympathy with 
each other’s tastes and feelings. Those who are about to 
wed, if they stultify their, sense to the fact that he or she is 
wanting in the requirements which would make it in truth 
a union of hearts and souls, commits an act of suicide be- 
cause of their distorted minds at the time. You look at me 
in surprise, because of what I have said ! Yes ! the last 
few years of my life, in the pursuit of my daily 
vocation of usefulness, living in an atmosphere of 
true happiness, I thought of the fieeting years of early 
manhood wasted in pursuits of an aimless, if even joyful 
existence, and on the many years of our mature life full of 
regrets, because of lost opportunities. I counted the cost 
involved, and did not care to take the risk. I love, and I 
liope and trust that this love of mine is a true and manly 
germ which nature has implanted within our hearts, and 
not merely a passion, such as your love for the crayon artist 



22 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


has proven. Oome, Frank, let us hurry to the house, and 
there you shaJl meet her who had no small share in framing 
thus my mind.” 


VAN AI.DEN, JR. 


23 


CHAPTER lY. 

Y an Aldeii had loved a beautiful girl, the only child of 
a once prominent portrait painter, who, having^lost his eye- 
sight, lived on a small income which his daughter supple- 
mented by her earnings as a crayon artist. 

Clare Gray, with her large, lustrous eyes, sylvan-like 
figure, exquisite taste in dress, if not entirely by the dictates 
of fashion, yet strikingly suiting her comeliness, was indeed 
a love'y apparition. 

Yan Alden’s eyes, transplanted from the canvas adorning 
the walls of the art gallery to that of the lovely picture ^of 
real life before him, gazed at the crayon artist with intense 
admiration. “Jack,” said he, addressing his friend, “what 
a lovely girl she is. If our great painters could, life-like, 
print her on canvas, what value would her picture repre- 
sent 

“Why, Frank,” said Jack Wilmot, “she represents far 
greater value as she stands there. Her face on canvas you 
may willingly buy, say for fifty thousand dollars, but you 
might be tempted to offer her your fortune, and throw your 
name into the bargain, if need be, should she understand to 
manage you cleverly after she got you. in her meshes. I 
have «een many such living pictures I could have treasured, 
had I possessed the means for investment ; lucky fellows, 
like yourself, made the investments, and I am informed that 
they rue the bargain. You will fall in love with that 
beauty ; I can perceive as much ! If you do, you must stick 


24 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


to your common sense, for which I always gave you credit, 
and it will do you uo fnrtlier liarm tlian bleed your pocket, 
and that you need not mind. As I know the metal you 
are made of, and need not fear on that score, I will give 
you a chance. I don’t know her, but know her escort. I 
suppose shej's his inamorata. He is a sculptor, of Italian 
descent, by name, Martini. Take care of his stilletto, should 
you succeed in arousing his jealousy.” 

The two friends then placed themselves before a Murillo 
which Clare Gray and her escort gradually approached. 

With a pleasant How are you. Martini,” Jack Wilmot 
shook the sculptor’s hand. The customary introduction of 
the others followed. 

Clare Gray is not the creation of the pen, nor a romance. 
Clare lived in our present age. Having lost her mother, when 
a child, she became the constant companion of her father, 
who, as her sole instructor and guide, neglected nothing to 
acquaint her with everything he thought she should know 
of real life, so that the knowledge of what passed, and 
passes daily, should serve to guard against all harmful influ- 
ences of our modern society, to which a poor and handsome 
girl so often is exposed. Grown to womanhood, the com- 
panionship of her sex, in her station of life, fell short of 
being congenial to her ; her peculiar education and mode of 
life accounting for it. She preferred that of her father, 
and his friends proved pleasant companions to her at home 
and on their rambles. Later, her father’s health and eye- 
sight failing, she applied herself to help maintain their 
modest but pleasant home. Occasionally, on her father in- 
sisting, she would go forth in company with one or the 



VAN ALDEN, JR. 25 

■-other of his trusted friends ; and on one of these occasional 
rambles through the Art Exhibition she had met Van 
’ "Alden, as described. 

Susceptible to everything beautiful in nature and art, 
she would gaze upon a perfect human face and form with 
as much delight as upon an exquisite mould of art. It is 
therefore conceivable that she admired the handsome, pol- 
ished Van Alden. 

Our hero’s conquest was not a mni^vidi^ mciP He 
whom society flattered, whom the most lovable of that so- 
ciety sought, could not boast of such a conquest. He won 
Clare by the fervor with which he had pleaded his love, by 
tlie assiduity of his attentions, and a demeanor nigh ap- 
proaching reverence. 

Her doubts and fears allayed, she followed the dictate of 
lier heart, that had long already responded to his. Her love 
ultimately made her his abject slave. 


26 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER y. 

Adjoining a village close to the Jersey shore, in an un- 
pretentious but well-appointed cottage, Clare Gray had lived 
the last four years with her child and invalid father. 

Yan Alden had insisted on his right to provide for his 
future wife and the mother of his child, as he then said. 

From a preference for seclusion, until lie could bring her 
to his home, Clare had chosen the cottage we find her in. 

‘‘’T is sufiiciently remote from New York, yet easily ac- 
cessible to you, dear Frank,” she had told him. Here she 
had led a happy existence, until ! — 

Yan Alden, the most ardent lover, who had delighted in 
his daily visits to his Clare, as he called her, could not suffi- 
ciently express to her the grief and disappointment he felt 
if he missed the boat that would bring him to her. It 
pleased Clare so much to hear him say this. Gradually he 
failed to come for days, attributing it to pressing business 
requirements. But when he came, his affectionate endear- 
ances satisfied her, as much as she deplored the circum- 
stances enforcing the frequent and long separations. 

Clouds at last had gathered upon the horizon of her hap- 
piness. Her lover’s fleeting visits of late, if they brought 
some sunshine to her, his parting left no trace of it in her 
heart. The outpouring of her love, to which he had so 
fervently responded, found in him now but a passive tolera 
tion. A change was obvious ; something was about to hap- 
pen ; something of a most direful possibility. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


27 


Protected from the receding rays of the sun, under the 
veranda fronting the cottage, Clare is seated, gazing expect- 
antly upon the outstretched waters of the bay. In the far 
distance she discerns the mail-boat gliding swiftly toward 
N — . At the further end, under the veranda, her blind 
father relates to his grandchild (a lovely girl about four 
years of age) a fairy tale, to which little Flora listens with 
childlike rapt attention. Occasionally the child gazes to- 
ward its mother with an expression of glee upon its face, 
because of the wonders grannie had unfolded to her intelli- 
gent comprehension. The mother would smile encourag- 
ingly on her child, and turn again toward the object of her 
attentions. 

The boat had now reached the landing stage. Upon 
Clare’s pallid face had spread a crimson flush. Frank had 
in his letter informed her that he 'would reach N — by 
the last boat, which was the one that had now landed. With 
eager glances she scanned the open landscape upon which 
he must soon appear. 

The boat sped again on its way. The passengers had dis- 
persed for their homes, but he came not. 

Clare’s face now assumed its wonted pallor ; she was still 
gazing on the pathway leading to the cottage. ‘‘ He may 
have met with some delay on landing,” she soliloquized, 
and resolved to meet the belated traveler. 

She soon, however, returned with a heavy heart. “ Per- 
haps he had missed the boat. He will come tomorrow ! 
She was sure he must ! He may be ill and cannot come ! 
And she here, unable to attend to his wants ! If something 
unnatural should happen to him ! She shuddered at the 


28 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


mere thought. How many other thoughts racKed her brain, 
so full of fears and hopes! 

Hearts will cling with tenacity to liopes. Hers likewise 
clung to one, “ that an unmeaning cause only had prevented 
Frank’s coming.” 

The servant had entered, bringing two letters. 

With anxious, feverish haste, Clare tore the cover en- 
closing Van Alden’s missive and read as follows : 

Dear Clare : I am very sorry that I must disappoint 
you. An unexpected event calls me to Morganville. My 
friend Armitage requires my presence there by Wednesday 
at the latest. I will leave New York by the first express 
this evening, and must therefore postpone my coming to 
you for a few days. I hope and trust that you will not 
chide me because of my disappointing you. Keep good 
cheer. With love and kisses to you and dear Florie. 

Your Frank. 

The letter dropped from her trembling hand ; her whole 
frame shook with the agitation the missive had caused, and, 
gazing at her child, who held the letter she had dropped, 
she snatched it to her breast and covered its face with ca- 
resses. The child’s endearances, lavished on her in return, 
seemed to soothe her agitation. 

I have a letter for you, father dear,” said Clare. ‘‘ It 
bears the postmark Rome. I also received a letter from 
Frank, in which he informs me that an urgent business en- 
gagement necessitates his absence for a few days longer.” 

Her father’s hands twitched nervously as he listened to 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


29 


Clare’s mournful voice, and he said : ‘‘ How much longer, 
my child, will your husband continue this masquerade? I 
must speak to you for once, even if what I say proves pain- 
ful to you. My heart feels sore at the knowledge of liis 
neglect, and tliat the companionship of your husband is de- 
nied to you for weighty reasons, as you and he call them. 
These reasons have stretclied to a length honesty would hardly 
warrant. They threaten your happiness and undermine 
your precious life. Yes, dear child, I cannot withdraw 
what I have said, although you will again try to appease my 
apprehension. 

My sight has failed me long ago, my health ebbs fast 
from me ; a frame like mine can but poorly bear the bur- 
den the knowledge of your unhappiness makes it. Before 
I leave you forever — there, darling, surely I must leave you 
some of these coming days, like you yourself must once 
leave those you love,” said he, endeavoring to still Clare’s 
sobs. ‘‘1 must know that the curtain is lifted that shrouds 
your existence. My eyes, could they but guide my totter- 
ing feet, I would step before those proud mdney-bags and 
thunder into their ears that you never sought that scion of 
their race, nor their lucre. Nor do you claim their lucre 
now ! As an honest wife, and the mother of his child, you 
claim the right of your husband’s protection, which has 

Deen withheld from you long enough through no fault of 

/ 

yours. 

‘‘ My dear child, beware ! A husband, if he be but an 
occasional guest to his hearth in the honeymoon of wedded 
life, becomes in after years an entire stranger to it.” 

‘^Father,” said Clare, ‘‘do not judge too hastily. A man 


30 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


like Frank, with dirties to fulfill — business as well as social 
— from which under existing circumstances he cannot well 
absent himself at will, has often absence enforced on him 
against his own desire. ’T is true, of late, his coming here 
is of longer interval than could make me feel content. But 
I remember that you often spoke of the evil of entire do- 
mestication ’’ (Clare saying this in a tone indicating cheer- 
fulness) ^^and that we must cordially wish for the husband’s 
enjoyments beyond the threshold of our homes, if we care to 
enhance his longing for the greater happiness and joys 
awaiting him at his own fireside. Why, then, should I feel 
as unhappy as you try to make me believe I am ? Would 
you, dear father, have me believe that he, whom I could 
but wrong because I love him and remain true to him, 
would willingly grieve me because he loves me? No, father, 
I have not lost faith in Frank, and I must further abide by 
his wish for secrecy, if he thinks it prudent and to his in- 
terest. Be at peace with your thoughts, fear not, the future 
of your Clare is safe, at least in His keeping,” looking to- 
ward heaven as she said the last words. Banish your som- 
bre visions. To me the future looks bright enough, even 
for my most sanguine hopes and wishes.” 

Clare now opened the letter addressed to her father and 
read the contents. 

Dear and Beloved Friend : I take pleasure in inform- 
ing you that I have concluded to undertake the execution 
of some sculptural work in New York. I will leave Rome 
within a few weeks for the States for that purpose. Yes, 
dear friend, once more I will return to my native land — the 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


31 


land of the free — to remain as long as my restless spirit 
contents itself to stay. I look forward to my coming Mntli 
great pleasure, because it will aflPord me the liappiness to 
meet dear friends. 1 trust that Providence will grant me 
the felicity of finding you restored to health. Kindly ex- 
press my best wishes to your dear daughter, lier husband 
and cliild. 

Assuring you of my most sincere and undying friend- 
ship, I remain^ 

Yours truly, Martini. 

Clare’s face, on reading these lines, had turned ashy 
white. Her father, delighted with the tidings read to him, 
said : 

He returns at last ! How kind in him to send me such 
w^elcome news. He must have divined that I longed for 
his presence.” 

Saying this, the blind artist fell into a reverie. 

Their thoughts were bent upon the same object. The 
father wishing in his innermost heart that his child had be- 
come the honored wife of that noble fellow, that triumph- 
ant disciple of a glorious art. 

Martini had loved Clare, and her father had encouraged 
his attentions, expressing a hope that she could reciprocate 
the feeling. Clare had informed her father that she could 
only consider Martini a dear friend. To please him she 
would continue their friendly relationship. The only en- 
couragement she gave Martini at the time consisted in tell- 
ing him that her heart was fancy free.” 

Clare felt dismayed at the knowledge of Martini’s com- 


32 VAN ALDEN, JR. 

ing and finding her the mistress of his rival and not his 
lawful wife. 

Father and daughter had separated for the nigiit. 

The latter entered her room, and, gliding noiselessly to- 
ward her slumbering child, imprinted on its innocent brow 
a niotherl}^, loving kiss, then approaching the balcony, she 
stood there motionless, with her hands clasped to her breast, 
staring into the peaceful heaven before her. 

Her life’s blood still coursed violently through her veins, 
but she felt sore and faint to death, as if struck down by an 
invisible blow. Only lately the universe had seemed too 
small to contain her happiness. She had cared for naught 
that the future could offer more; now her brain is in a 
whirl. She had sinned. If she had, it was not with knowl- 
edge ; and for whom she sinned, could heaven have chosen 
him the instrument of her torture ? 

With a groan akin to despair, she sought her bed, and, 
throwing herself upon it, buried her face in the pillows as 
if she could thereby banish the sad visions. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


33 


CHAPTER YI. 

Reuben Yan Alden, a man of some sixty-five years, upon 
wliom time had left no tell-tale mark, for lie always had 
smootli sailing on the waves of life, could be met daily, 
plodding along the streets in a manner void of offence. 
Without a trace of pride, with an almost rustic simplicity 
and honesty of appearance, he made friends at first sight. 
He could hardly make enemies, if he would. Yet he is 
proud, and goes hand in hand along, in all the notions and 
traditions of his class. 

His conscience and character compound matters amica- 
bly. He advocates equality, social and political, in the 
South, and holds himself aloof from it in New York. In 
politics a republican, and in mind an aristocrat. Such is the 
uncle of Frank, the head of the house of Yan Alden & Co. 

We find the old aristocrat seated in his library reading the 
Herald^ in which occupation he is interrupted by the man 
servant announcing : Master Frank solicits the pleasure of 
your company.” 

On the entrance of his nephew he smiles pleasantly and 
beckons Frank to a seat near his own, saying: I am glad 
to see you home again. Country life in Morganville must 
have had some attractions for you, else you would not have 
tarried there thus long. You look remarkably well. Yes, 
my boy, early to bed and early to rise, makes man healthy, 
happy and wise. There is great truth in that proverb. 
Confound our modern electric lights that make our streets 


34 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


so attractive to you men. In my time the oil lamps, dimly 
burning, made them but the refuge of blackguards and cut- 
throats after dark. ’T is something of import tliat brought 
you here. You do not often seek me in my home. My 
old-fashioned, quiet life does n’t suit my modern nephew. I 
am no companion for the gay Lothario that you are. And 
yet the only brother of your dear father has a claim upon 
some of your spare time, which you seem to begrudge me.” 
Continuing, after a pause, he said : ‘‘ Young Armitage is 
married. Well, if such a wild chap, of whom you often 
spoke, has at last settled down quietly, I will not despair on 
your score. Young blood must be bled, if it shall flow ra- 
tionally in after years ; but it must not be sapped to its last 
drop. Don’t get impatient,” he said, noticing Frank’s look 
toward the door. I would fail in the dictates of my con- 
science and in my love for you, should I longer neglect 
speaking to you on a subject which is of serious import to 
you and me. Unbridled youth, if it indulges in the excesses 
of our modern times, must, on approach of manhood, grasp 
the more serious import of our life ; else the effect of the 
dissipation has poisoned body and mind. God help him, 
then ! 

To you, Frank, the last progeny of our name, will be 
left an ediflce of no mean dimensions. Your father and 
myself*‘had an honorable share in its erection. To you will 
be delegated the dutj^, if not to add to its lustre, at least to 
maintain it in its present sound condition. Horse-racing, 
yachting, club gaieties, and love intrigues with women, 
venal to the best-fllled purses, cannot fit you for the honest 
fulfillment of those duties awaiting you. Am I wrong, if I 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 35 

doubt that such a life can be the goal and ambition of a Van 
Alden?” 

Frank had risen from his chair, stung to the quick by the 
cutting words of his uncle. But the kind, fatherly look 
meant no insult. 

My dear uncle,” said he, “yoi® draw no flattering picture 
of my life. I hope you are aware of your exaggeration, 
and that you draw it only in glaring colors to naake such a 
life odious to me. Very flattering, in so far that you do not 
believe me beyond redemption. My doings must have been 
reported to you by your friends, who can be no friends of 
mine. I admit that I do not lead such a life as you and our 
forefathers have led. You must take into consideration 
that the dimly-lighted streets had no attractions then. 
That accounts for your deserting them at night. Had 
they been lighted by electricity then, as now, who knows 
to what hour, long after midnight, you M have yet en- 
joyed its glare? 

You admit, uncle, that young blood must be bled. 
Mine continues to circulate pretty boisterously, and can 
yet stand some bleeding. Be assured that I will not allow 
it to be sapped. I know that you would like to see me 
settled a pater familias to secure our proud ediflce an heir. 
To prove to you that appearances are often deceptive, and 
that my mind has grasped the object of man’s existence, 
I acquaint you with the fact that I seriously entertain 
thoughts of marrying ; provided the choice I make will 
meet with your approval. 

As you are the only guardian of our good name, my- 
self but a scapegoat, unable to undertake that duty, you 


36 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


have a right to see that she, whom I chose, is worthy of 
sharing the same with me. I will, therefore, subject her 
pedigree to your strict scrutiny, and will abide by your 
decision, provided the same proves to my liking. Should 
you object, because of her pedigree, you will force me to 
throw to you the gauntlet of obedience. So that I don’t 
subject the proud name of Van Alden to a mesalliance, 
I will then call myself Herr Von Alden. You must 
hereby perceive that the aristocrat will cling to me. The 

Yon” I will purchase of some impecunious Serene High- 
ness, of a German principality, with the fortune my bride 
will bring me.” 

The old aristocrat, elated by his nephew’s humorous com- 
munication, irnpljdng a fulfillment of his long-cherished 
desire, grasped Frank’s hands and said : 

My boy, I have not interfered in your way otherwise 
than by an occasional admonition. The severest, and I 
hope the last, I administered to you just now. Your mode 
of life has not been to my liking; but I never doubted 
that a Van Alden will emerge from the ordeal of the fol- 
lies of our modern life like precious metal, that must pass 
through the crucible if it shall be cleansed from the dross. 

To prove my trust in your good sense, 1 give -at once 
my unqualified approval, satisfied that the pedigree of your 
future wife is everything that could be desired. I am happy 
beyond measure to know of your anticipated marriage ; at 
the same time I am possessed of a goodly portion of natural 
inquisitiveness, and would like to hear more about her than 
the fortune you mentioned she would bring you. Money is 
not amiss with one of your propensities to get rid of ; yet, as 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


37 


you have suflScient, albeit that you are extravagant, her for- 
tune is of little consequence to you. Now, my dear boy, 
you had better unfold your colors ! Who is she ? Of a 
family I know ? ” 

My dear uncle,” replied Van Alden, ‘‘don’t ride your 
hobby too fast. I have not, as yet, asked her, and don’t 
know whether she will have me. She is not one of our city 
beauties. I met her in Morgan ville. I am not Romeo-like 
ill love with her, for I have outgrown such like sentiment ; 
yet, if I can win her, it will be worth my while trying.” 

“Our city girls,” said the old gentleman, “are not to be 
spoken of slightingly. They are a fine and noble lot. Some- 
times the rarest gem is found hidden in some out-of-way 
place, and it takes just such deuced sharp eyes as yours to find 
it. If she will have you? What girl would refuse a hand- 
some fellow like yourself, and a Van Alden at that ? If you 
want her, and you will ask her, she will say ‘ Yes ’ quick 
enough-.” 

Frank now assumed a more serious mien, and said : “ My 
coming here has a second object, of not less import to me 
than the first. I require your advice and your personal in- 
tervention. I hope that what I am about to say to you will 
not mar the pleasure my first communication gave you. I 
mentioned to you that I have outgrown a Romeo-like senti- 
ment. ’T is because of a like love that I once felt for a beau- 
tiful girl in the humbler walks of life, which has proven but 
a transitory passion. 

“ Clare — that is her name — is devotedly attached to me, 
an 1 has lived ever since in the belief that I will make her 
my wife. You are aware that this cannot be, and as I am 


38 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


about to woo, I must apprise her of my perfidy. You per- 
ceive that I do not spare myself. The tie that binds me to 
her, if no more one of love, is one of great interest and duty 
toward her and child. I must deal her a blow, but will en- 
deavor that the same leaves but a soreness which the healing 
balm of time can cure. As I cannot strike directly and in- 
directly at the same time, I ask your interposition. 

Keuben Yan Alden had listened at first with composure 
to his nephew’s disclosure of an escapade, not the only one 
he thought him guilty of. As the latter proceeded, the old 
gentleman’s face expressed surprise and pain. At its con- 
clusion he rose from his seat, and with deep feeling said : 

I am grieved to know you guilty of an act that gives 
you cause for regret 'and self-reproach, and which must 
bring sorrow to that young w’oman.” 

Frank,” he continued, had you deliberately beguiled 
that girl by false promises, and thus sought her ruin, I 
would never have believed you kin of mine, and would 
henceforth shun you as I would a leper. Thank God, yours 
is not such a black deed, and not the act of a libertine. Are 
you sure that she was honest, and that she is not more to 
blame than yourself ? Has an honest girl of humble origin 
a right to listen to the love-making of a young man like 
yourself? The difference of station in life must have 
warned her of an unlikelihood for an honest union. You 
say you meant it honestly with your suit and made your 
honest intention known to her ? Then she should have 
jealously guarded her honor, which, if assailed by passion, 
must destroy a welcome for her, even in the honest homes 
of her equals. Perhaps you erred — lovers often do. She 


VAN AI.DEN, JR. 


39 


may have been a girl who, with her good looks and coy- 
ness, would allure a young man like yourself to a promise 
of marriage even, and forget how far she could go with 
impunity.” 

You are doing her injustice,” said Frank. ’T is be- 
cause of the knowledge of her guilelessness that I shrink 
from the ordeal of revealing to her my faithlessness.” 

The old gentleman crossed and recrossed the library, 
greatly agitated, not at all pleased. 

How was he to advise on a subject he deprecated the ne- 
cessity of giving counsel. 

That girl,” he muttered to himself, is the victim of 
my nephew’s youthful folly.” From Frank’s own confession 
he could give it no harsher name. She must receive repara- 
tion ! What other reparation could Frank offer, than placing 
her in a comfortable position. She may then again become 
a respectable member of her society, and marry some decent 
fellow, who would not be the worse off for doing so. 

Turning to Frank, he said : You have asked my advice. 
As much as I deplore your having asked me, I will give 
you the only one I can give. A discarded mistress, if 
pinched by poverty, is easily tempted to become the mis- 
tress of number two ; you must therefore act handsomely 
by her, and settle on her a good lump of money. Then write 
to her, stating that you are about to marry, and must sepa- 
rate from her. She will easily understand the necessity for 
it. You know better how to compose such a letter than I, 
and need no suggestion from me.” 

The advice you are giving me,” said Frank, is credit- 
able to your good heart. I have settled on her a sum suffi- 


40 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


cient to keep her out of harm’s way for life. We may feel 
prone to steel our hearts when self-interest, pride, and caste 
are at stake, but we ought at least endeavor to soften the 
pain we are obliged to inflict, if we can possibly do so. To 
write to her the letter you suggest would be adding insult 
to injury, and be the act of a coward.^’ 

“And what would you then suggest?” asked the old 
aristocrat. 

“ I must send to her my nearest kin, who, well versed 
with the reasons forbidding the union, must try to reconcile 
her to the inevitable,” replied Frank. 

“ As I am your nearest kin,” said the old gentleman, “ I 
infer that I am to be your ambassador, deliver your bitter 
message and coat it with sweet diplomatic reasoning. In- 
deed, Frank, you must esteem that woman highly, to urge 
me on such a mission ; otherwise, I would consider it detri- 
mental to my self-respect to have it even proposed to me. 
Well, my boy, I will consider it, and let you know my tinal 
decision. I suppose I will have to act in your behalf.” 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


41 


CHAPTER VII. 

Youth is oblivious to everything, but to the gratification 
of its omnipotent behest. Youthful love' blazes fiercely, 
but its vital warmth rarely rises to the surface. 

Van A Men’s love had proven but a youthful passion, that 
had run its wild course, evaporating its intoxicating fumes 
with the possession of the coveted object. 

Clare now inspired him with but a sympathetic concern. 
He could not sacrifice his whole life because of a pliantom 
of conscience that occasionally upbraided him. His youth- 
ful folly and error, as he thought, must not entail on him, 
binding himself for life to a woman he does not love, and 
to whom, at best, he could bring no happiness. 

His desire is to do what is right, but his first principle — 
and I fear it has equal weight with all — is self-preservation. 
Most men are not generous as regards the happiness of 
women, if their own is not enhanced thereby. We are all 
more or less prone to selfishness. Press our conscience to 
act upon fixed principles, and if they clash with our own 
welfare, we will tell you that we are asked to perform ex- 
tremes, and will find a way out of it. Our minds are often 
like musical instruments, out of tune ; touch a particular 
key and it will jar on our hearing. 

Van Alden was a spoiled child of fortune. Habits fos- 
tered by wealth allowed him to gratify his tastes to the ut- 
most, and he had acquired passions that poisoned his better 
self. It was for his own sake, and because of a newly 


42 VAN AIvDEN, JR. 

awakened passion that he concluded to sever the tie with 
Clare. 

It was in his power to provide for her and her child hand- 
somely. He had done so, and if he possibly could, would 
palliate his betrayal by a pretext of circumstances over 
which he had no control. For this reason he had sought 
his uncle, and, as we are aware, had succeeded in enlisting 
the latter’s intervention. Elated at his success, he left the 
old aristocrat, feeling contented with himself and the world 
at large. 

On the evening of Frank’s contemplated visit toMorgan- 
ville he received from his friend, Ralph Armitage, a letter, 
in which he was informed of Judge Brown’s and Helen’s 
departure for New York, where they would embark on the 
coming Saturday for England, by the Cunard line. 

This letter changed his plans. 

Helen, the incentive of his projected visit to Morgan- 
ville, departs for England on Saturday, mused Van Alden. 
That would be tomorrow. Have they arrived in New 
York ? Where have they alighted ? He must find out. 
What would prevent him taking passage on that steamer, 
and roaming through the continent in her company ? Would 
she object. 

Hailing the first cab he met on reaching the street, he 
ordered the driver to bring him to the Cunard office. 

Arrived there, he was informed that every available berth 
had been engaged. 

He would then follow by the next outgoing steamer on 
Wednesday. 

Arrived at the office of the White Star line, he secured 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


43 


the last berth, and then drove to the Fifth Avenue hotel. 

‘^The Jud^e and Miss Powell are guests of the house,’’ 
replied the polite clerk to Van Alden’s inquiries; and fur- 
ther stated that they were not in, and that the}" intended 
leaving on the morrow for England. 

Having received this information Van Alden left. 


44 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Judge Brown and Helen were seated in the sitting- 
room of the Northwestern Hotel, Liverpool, close to one of the 
windows facing Lime street, a popular thoroughfare. 

Throngs of people lined the streets. Royalty had honored 
the city for a special occasion, and, like true Britons, the 
masses had turned out to give their Prince a w^elcome. Both 
the Judge and Helen watched the motley throng. 

Those who had not donned their festive attire — perhaps 
from want of it— displayed, at least, festive proclivities by 
a boisterous hilarity and horseplay, induced by the ale or gin 
indulged in frequently at the public houses abounding in 
the neighborhood. 

The thousands thus assembled are left to themselves, 
unrestrained and untutilated by the guardians of the peace,'’ 
said the Judge to Helen. They, the people, protect them- 
selves, conscious that the disturber of their peaceful gather- 
ings would bring condign punishment upon himself from 
one of their own kind. How different you will find the 
gatherings of the oppressed masses, who, on like occasions, 
are kept in aw^e by a displayed force, so that they wage not 
war on law and order.” 

‘^Englishmen are freemen,” uttered a gentleman who ap- 
proached the Judge and Helen unperceived. 

Both turned tovrard the speaker. 

“ How^ are you, Mr. Herbal?” inquired the Judge. “I 
am glad to meet you again,” 


V 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


45 


Helen greeted the new-comer with a pleasant smile. 

The Honorable C. Herbal, a fellow passenger on their 
trip across the Atlantic, had returned to Liverpool that 
morning from a visit to his home, near Wolverhampton. 

He is a man in the prime of life, of true English type, 
with an intelligent, open countenance, in which one in- 
stinctively recognizes the noble nature. He has polished 
manners, and is a m of the world. He has traveled 
extensively, and had passed through the States on his re- 
turn from the Antipodes. 

‘^Yes, Judge,” resumed Herbal, ‘‘Englishmen are free- 
men, only the freedom brings with it liabits and tastes de- 
structive to the moral well-being of the masses, launching 
them into poverty, degradation and crime. This is your 
first visit to England, Miss Powell, if I am not mistaken ? 
Travel affords the observant mind glimpses into the index 
of nations, and individuals. I have no doubt you take an 
interest in that line of study. You will meet with unac- 
customed sights wherever you travel through this realm, 
and your attention will be forcibly drawn to a disease that 
£:naws on the vitals, strength and prosperity of the masses. 
’T is drink ! This throng of merry-makers, the majority are 
in drink. It is their diversity after daily toil. They are 
habitues of public houses, wherein they squander their hard- 
earned wages. 

“ Notice that emaciated, ragged woman leading that stag- 
gering man. May be he is her husband. Very likely she 
hunted him up, and now leads him home that she may save 
the few pennies, if he has any left, to buy some food for 
herself and famishing children. To what a home, judging 


46 


VAN Ar;DEN, JR. 


from her appearance, does she lead him ? When that man 
awakens from his drunken stupor, will he content himself 
in that miserable hovel? No! If he finds his pockets 
empty, surmising that his wife had rified them, he will urge 
her to share with him at least half of what she found in 
them. If she refuses, he will abuse her ; endeavor to force 
her into compliance by beating her; and, if such brutal 
treatment fails, he will go forth to get drink on credit. 

Rarely that the wife rebels against such treatment and 
neglect, unless she cares to send her husband to prison for 
weeks or months and march herself and children into the 
workhouse. They can be fed there. ’T is not the bread 
alone she cares for, but where she can eat it, and that she 
need not be dependent for it on task-masters — hard-hearted 
ones at that. She would rather suffer, half starve herself 
and children, than go to the workhouse. The end of that 
woman’s story ? She died from ill-usage, starvation, despair ; 
or, like her husband, through drink. ' 

^^No, Miss Powell,” Herbal continued, ^^I do not exag- 
gerate, but rathqr palliate facts. Look at that couple there ! 
Both are staggering from drink ; and there ! that wretched 
pair encircling each other! Now, their besotted lips meet! ” 
Shame!, shame!” uttered Helen; “you are right, Mr. 
Herbal ; shame on the liberty that fosters such indecency ! ” 
“ I am sorry. Miss Powell,” said Herbal, “ if I attracted 
your attention to sights that engendered your disgust. In 
journeying through the British Isles you will not be able to 
close your eyes to them, else you will have to keep them 
closed too often.” 

“ I frequently read descriptions of viciousness,” said 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


47 


Helen, ‘‘but I tlioiiglit it shuns honest eyes, and lurks in 
dark and out-of-way places only. Is it possible that my sex, 
be she even of the humbler spheres and walks of life, can 
demonstrate such an abandon to shame before the gaze of 
thousands ! And it is a queen, a mother, pious and virtu- 
ous who reigns here ! ” 

“ Our Queen,” said Herbal, “cannot wield the wand at 
will. Englishmen are loyal subjects to their Queen, from 
tradition and custom, which they will remain so long as Her 
Majesty contents herself to be the executor of their will ; 
but no more. We have a government, as you are undoubt- 
edly aware, of parties, of responsible ministers to Parliament, 
whose members are elected by the franchises, of the people. 
Such a government may propose laws that will enlarge in- 
dividual freedom. If it attempts to pass measures enforcing 
sobriety, defining immoral habits, customs which the law has 
sanctioned or winked at for centuries, it would wreck its 
power against the stubborn resistance of a Parliament that 
cannot become a party thereto, if it does not want to be 
swept from existence. Besides, law cannot change incarnate 
habits and tastes of people who have no hope in life, and 
seek forgetfulness of their condition in the cup that beckons 
to them from every corner ; and thus they must propagate 
their species.” 

“ What could remedy this evil ? ” inquired the Judge. 

“ Society,” replied Herbal, “ if we had one willing to grasp 
the needful remedies for the existing state of things. The 
Church fails with the masses, because of its mistaken 
methods, and weans but few from their downward career.” 

“ I cannot divine the drift of what you say,” said Helen. 


48 VAN AIvDEN, JR. 

Is not the Church the largest and best constituted body of 
society ? ” 

No,” replied Herbal ; the Church is a doctrinal body 
that endeavors to absorb society. Its metliod is one of 
reasoning only, but of little help. It promises a liereafter, 
only that the struggling, wretched masses cannot appreciate 
such consolation. They believe themselves entitled to a small 
share of the goodies and enjoyments in this vale of plenty 
to others, in which the Church enjoys a liberal share. Doc- 
trines — that the Almighty gave them life with the prescript 
that they must but toil, live in want, in pious abnegation 
from all that brightens and cheers the eyes and' senses, that 
they may deserve the Kingdom of Heaven — do not suit our 
present age. Such doctrines of the Church are the prime 
cause of its waning power over thinking mankind.” 

“ You say that society is not willing to grasp the needs 
that could remedy the evil, and that the Church, through a 
mistaken method, wins but few proselytes, and that it is im- 
possible to check it by law. How, then, remedy the evil ? ” 
inquired the Judge. 

One of the three factors alone can accomplish but lit- 
tle,” replied Herbal. Let them act conjointly, and they 
will accomplish much.” 

You arouse my curiosity — indeed you do ! I would like 
to acquaint myself with your ideas,” said the Judge. 

Herbal gazed wistfully at Helen and said : I am now en- 
gaged writing a volume on that subject, and will forward 
to you a copy in due time.” 

Let me congratulate you, Mr. Herbal, on your becoming 
an author on social ouestions which shall benefit mankind. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


49 


T hope that you advocate for us women an advanced sphere,” 
said Helen, with a smile. 

‘‘ I must confess tliat I am not inclined to advocate a 
broader sphere for your sex than you already occupy. I 
would rather have you retrace somewhat your steps,” re- 
plied Herbal, pleasantly. 

“ Terrible men that you are ! Trace our steps backward ? 
Why, everything advances now — even the time for our con- 
templated visit. No friend of our sex would suggest such 
a thing. I really thought that you cared for us — at least a 
little. How mistaken I have been in my judgment of you,” 
said Helen in a tone of raillery. 

Helen knew why Herbal had declined the Judge’s invita- 
tion to argue the remedies the country were in need of. 
With the Judge’s assent, she had accepted Lady Darvey’s 
(Herbal’s sister) invitation. The hour for the contemplated 
visit had arrived, and the Judge was now reminded of the 
fact. 

‘‘ I must tell Mrs. Betts,” said Helen, that she need not 
wait for our return to luncheon.” Turning to Herbal, 
‘‘You will excuse my leaving you for a moment.” 

“ On condition that your errand is not a device to improve 
toilet and looks,” said Herbal, with a pleasant smile. 

“ How you divined my intentions ! ” said Helen. “ And 
why would you not have me improve my looks ? No ! no ! 
Please do not answer. I withdraw the question.” 

Herbal looked at her with kindly interest and admiration. 
How sorry he felt that he had passed the meridian of life. 
He might have been a pleasant traveling companion, but 
he could be no more to her. 


50 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


“ I have not construed your question in the sense you 
feared,” he said. I have classed you liigher than you 
thought I did, and perhaps thought me able.” 

Helen gazed at Herbal furtively. She felt that she had 
made a mistake. 

“ How well-bred that Englishman is,” thought she. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


51 


CHAPTER IX. 

Reuben Yan Alden felt out of sorts; dissatisfied and 
sorry that lie had promised his nephew to meddle in his love 
affair, and in such a way as that. He felt nervous and agi- 
tated at the thought that he must pay that young woman a 
visit. He had no particular dislike for young women. No ! 
He thought very much of them ; would look at their pretty 
faces, slightly squeeze their hands, if held out to him — 
naturally in all fairness to propriety. Their sunny faces re- 
called to him the one of his never-forgotten Mary. 

Poor Mary! She had left him a solitary widower, their 
union not being blessed with children. He mourned her 
truly — yes, he did ? He must bear the burden of the many 
years of life he hoped he would yet live with resignation, 
and he would, by further good deeds, qualify himself for 
the eternal life by the side of her who, the worthier of both, 
had preceded him into the Kingdom of Heaven. He had 
everything he wished for, but felt solitary. He loved Frank 
as he would have loved a son ; therefore the knowledge that 
his nephew intended bringing to his own solitary home a 
wife, brought his heart infinite joy. Yes ! he must make 
the sacrifice and see that young woman. 

‘‘ Let me see ” — taking a card his nephew had given him. 
he read : “Mrs. Gray, Gray’s Villa, N.” 

“ I understand ! Frank bought that home, and he is 
known there as Mr. Gray. 

“ I wonder what sort of a woman she is ? I will soon find 


52 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


out. I hope she is not of the milky kind, so easily imposed 
on, but all feeling and sentiment, and not at all practical. 
Tills is Tuesday ; tomorrow I must see Frank off. I had 
better go and see her on Thursday morning.” 

Van Alden, Sr., on Thursday took the boat for N. 

He was seated on the upper deck musing and rehearsing 
in mind the needful arguments by which he must succeed 
in his ambassadorial mission. He would not speak harshly 
to her. No ! Yet he must impress upon her mind how 
fortunate she is that her lover is a Van Alden — a generous, 
noble-minded fellow, and that she should consider what hei 
fate might have been had she lent herself for an unholy love 
to some unprincipled fellow of her class. 

‘‘ Next stopping-place, N ! ” shouted a voice. 

The old aristocrat arose from his seat, saying : Yes, that 
place yonder must be N.” 

That place was not the Mecca of his choice, but it was his 
destination for this day, and he felt pleased that 'he would 
soon leave the boat, a conveyance he had no particular pen- 
chant for. 

At last the boat reached N. 

Close to Van Alden, Sr., several passengers awaited 
disembarkation. 

‘‘ Would you kindly direct me to Villa Gray ? ” said Van 
Alden, addressing a Quaker-like looking gentleman. 

‘‘ If you follow my way, I will bring you to a footpath 
leading to the cottage. 

‘‘There, sir, that cottage to the right is Villa Gray.” 

With “ thanks” and a “ good morning,” the old aristocrat 
took the pathway indicated by the Quaker. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


53 


The shade the old gentleman carried protected him from 
the sun’s burning rays ; nevertheless he felt glad on reach- 
ing the cottage gate. 

A lad working in the garden opened the gate. 

Is Miss Gray at liome ? ” inquired the old gentleman. 
No, sir ! Mrs. Gray and child both are out, but Mr. 
Gray is in.” 

The old gentleman, looking at the lad in astonishment, 
said : “ Do 1 hear right, my lad ? Mr. Gray is in, you say ? ” 
Yes, sir ! ” answered the lad. ' 

Frank left yesterday for Liverpool ; I, myself, witnessed 
his departure, mused the old gentleman, greatly perturbed. 
A thought suddenly flashed through his mind. Turning to 
the lad, he asked, with a smile, “How many Mr. Gray’s has 
Mrs. Gray ? ” 

“ Well, sir,” replied the lad, “you surely ask a funny 
question. Since 1 live here, and this is goin’ on for three 
years, I knows only one Mr. Gray here ; he is the old gen- 
tleman. He has no brothers I knows of.” 

“ The old gentleman ? What old gentleman ? ” asked 
Van Alden, Sr., with still greater surprise depicted on his 
countenance. 

“ The old gentleman — that is the father of Mrs. Gray,” 
retorted the lad, astonished at the ignorance of city folks. 

Van Alden had, in the meantime, entered the garden. 
Matters appeared to him complicated. “ She has a father, 
and he lives here ? ” queried the old gentleman. “ Frank 
never mentioned this to me. What a wretch that man 
must be to live on the sin and shame of his child. I judged 
her rightly ! She cannot succeed in throwing dust into 


54 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


the eyes of the old man, even if she succeeded in doing so 
with the young one. I don’t believe in her guilelessness. 
How much easier now will I arrange the matter that 
brought me here. No compunction — no, indeed, none ! ” 
Addressing the lad, he said : 

‘‘ Inform Mr. Gray that I desire to speak to him.” 

Follow me, sir, and I will bring you to him,” said the 
lad. 

Van Alden followed his guide to an arbor, where the 
blind artist was seated. 

A gentleman wishes to speak to you. Master Gray,” an- 
nounced the lad, and withdrew. 

The blind artist rose from his seat in polite recognition 
of his visitor, saying : ‘‘ Whom have I the pleasure of ad- 

dressing, and of what service can I be to you, sir ? ” 

Van Alden looked in surprise and with visible emotion at 
the blind, stately-looking man, saying : Be seated, Mr. 

Gray, and, if you permit,! will do likewise. My name, 
no doubt, is a familiar one to you. ’T is strange that Frank 
never mentioned you to me.” 

The blind artist, greatly agitated on hearing Frank’s 
name, asked : Do you allude to Frank Van Alden? Who 
are you, sir, that you utter his name in such a familiar 
way ? ” 

Be seated — ^please be seated, Mr. Gray ; do not excite 
yourself. I am Frank’s uncle, and came here on an errand 
in his behalf.” 

At last ! at last ! ” muttered the blind artist. Be wel- 
come, Mr. Van Alden, thrice welcome to this, our home. I 
feel sorry — indeed, very sorry — that dear Clare and the 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


55 


babe are not at home. I always Qall the dear child, babe,” 
continued the blind artist. “ I remember its birth, but 
could not see its growth. Both are visiting friends in the 
village. I will send for them at once.” 

‘^No, not now,” said Van Alden. “Later you may, 
sliould you still desire it. I wish to speak to you first. I 
think it by far better that we two should first come to a 
proper understanding ; then you may decide if I need speak 
to your daughter.” 

“ You rather surprise me, sir,” said the blind artist. “ First 
you wish to speak to me, and then I shall decide if you need 
speak to my daughter ! I must say you speak in riddles. 
You would not have come to see me, of whose existence, as 
you told me, you knew naught — and, because you found the 
father, you think it of no consequence to see her whom you 
came to meet, and who, as you must be aware, is no stranger 
to you.” 

“ Frank acquainted me with the fact of his and your daugh- 
ter’s relationship,” said Van Alden. “The mission that 
brought me here, I undertook at Frank’s earnest request. 
My nephew would not entrust the same to otliers. Having 
met you, my task is somewhat easier. I prefer arranging 
business matters with men. However, before I proceed, I 
would fain ask you a question : “ Have you, all these years, 
been aware of their relationship ? ” 

“ Certainly,” replied the blind artist. 

“You say ^yes!’ How long since that you have lost 
your eyesight ? ” inquired Van Alden. 

“ Six years ago,” answered the blind artist. 

“ I will understand matters clearer,” said Van Alden, “ if 


56 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


you answer one more question. Were you needy at the 
time your eyesight failed you 5” 

The blind artist turned his now pallid face towards the 
direction of the speaker, and. with a voice that vibrated with 
indignation, replied ; I divine the reason of this, your last 
question, and can proudly answer that I and my child were 
dependent on no one for our living.” 

Yan Alden shook his head in astonishment. Angered at 
the defiant answer the blind artist gave, he said : “ And yet 
you sanctioned your daughter’s liaison with my nephew ! 
’T is an act that discredits the name of father. The knowl- 
edge of it closes my heart to the sympathetic throb your 
affliction had nigh stirred within it !” 

Liaison ! liaison ! What liaison do you mean ? Speak 
out, man ! No more riddles ! Guilty of an act that dis- 
credits my name of father ? What act is it that discredits 
that name ? Oh ! I understand you,” he continued. ‘‘ I 
see it now. Yes, I was derelict in my duty to my child. I 
ought not to have permitted these many years of secrecy. 

You see, sir, I love her so much that I dote on her 
slightest wish. For this reason I acquiesced to her entreaties. 
’T is for Frank’s interest and welfare she had pleaded. Be 
assured, sir, it smote my heart to know that the protection 
of her husband was denied to her. Yes, you are right. As 
her father, I had no right permitting her to subject herself 
to a suspicion. Oh, terrible ! ” he exclaimed. Blind here 
and blind there,” pointing to his eyes and forehead as he 
sank with a groan into his chair. 

Van Alden stood motionless — bewildered. Her hus- 

band — secret marriage,” he muttered to himself. What 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 57 

does all this mean ? Frank is not married ! No ! Does 
that man play a part ? For what purpose ? ” 

At last he said : “You spoke of your daughter’s husband ; 
her secret marriage. Your daughter — is she married ? ” 

“ You told me, sir,” said the artist, “ tliat Frank sent you 
here on an errand in his behalf. With what errand could 
he have entrusted you, unless he informed you that my 
daughter is his lawful wife ? ” 

Van Alden’s face turned asliy white. He had done that 
man an injustice in his thoughts. Is it possible that his 
nephew had contrived such a deception? Impossible! 
Frank is no villain ! Preposterous to cast such a suspicion 
on him? ’T is she ! To veil her frailty, she has deceived 
her father. Yes, ’t is she 1 

These were the thoughts that flashed across his harassed 
mind.* He understood it all. He now felt a compunction 
to acquaint that poor, deluded man with the true state of 
affairs; but . his feeling, heart must not deter him from a 
duty — more paramount now — to sever the last link that 
bound his nephew to such an abandoned woman. Yes, he 
must speak. 

“My errand, Mr. Gray,” said he, “is to inform your 
daughter that Frank can no longer continue a relationship 
into which he had unfortunately entered with her, which is 
not one of a lawful, honest union, as you seem to believe.” 
’ “ ’T is a lie ! ” vociferated the blind artist, his whole frame 
trembling with agitation. “An infamous lie 1 Don’t you 
see that I am blind?” clenching his hands as he spoke. 

Not a lawful union, you say ? I understand you now. 
You believe my daughter to be the mistress of your nephew, 


58 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


and that I, her father, winked at her shame and lived on the 
proceeds of her sin! Art thou a father? hast thou ever 
been a father? No, no ! else thou wouldst not have uttered 
such helhbred thoughts ! Mj daughter the mistress of your 
nephew,” he continued ; the child an offspring of sin ? 
Thou darest breathe this even, and I am powerless to close 
your slanderous mouth ! ” 

The blind artist suddenly turned his face toward the di- 
rection from whence he heard familiar footsteps approach- 
ing. 

Hush ! I hear her footsteps. I am here ; come this 
way, Clare ! ” he shouted. “ Thank God that she is com- 
ing.” Addressing Yan Alden, he said : Ask her, look at 
her, and then ask yourself if her like would become venal 
even for a crown.” 

Clare, on entering the garden and hearing her father’s 
angry voice, hurried toward the arbor, when her ear caught 
his last sentence. 

She instinctively divined all. 

Spectre-like she stood for a moment, and, unnerved, sank 
to the ground. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


59 


CHAPTER X. 

Helen and tlie Judge had accepted Lord and Lady Har- 
vey’s invitation, tendered througli Herbal. 

‘‘ My sister’s house,” the latter had said, ‘‘ is the rendez- 
vous of many of your countrymen. Lady Harvey is Lord 
Harvey’s second wife. His first wife belonged to a well- 
known family in New York. Both take special interest in 
your compatriots. I spoke to them of you; that you in- 
tend remaining in Liverpool. They at once urged me to 
afford them the pleasure of an introduction to you. My 
sister is somewhat indisposed, at present, but Lord Harvey 
will call on you. You will like my sister, Miss Powell. 
She is neither a handsome nor a brilliant woman, but is, as 
we say — between and betwixt — ^a slight combination of both. 
My sister will be delighted to meet you. I am pleased that 
you kindly consented to call on her.” 

Turning to the Judge, he continued: “If you are fond 
of sport, you will find my brother-in-law a capital shot and 
an expert with the fishing rod. ’T is agreed then, on Thurs- 
day for luncheon. It will be an informal affair, enfamille 
Be ready by noon.” 

The carriage Lord Harvey had sent for the Judge and 
Helen came to a stop before a stately mansion. 

Herbal quickly alighted to assist Helen. 

At the entrance two sprightly girls, about fourteen years 
of age, received them with smiling faces, expressing their 
pleasure at the meeting. 


6o 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


Yic., one of the sisters, who seemed to be the spokesman, 
said : Dear mamma awaits you in her room.” 

Then each of the twins, taking Helen’s hand, ascended a 
liandsome broad stairway toward a room, the door of which 
a servant held ajar, and in which Lady Darvey received 
them. 

Herbal, who followed, introduced both to his sister. 

Lady Darvey endeavored to rise. 

Helen, observing the ejffort it cost her, begged her to desist. 

“ I feel sorry,” said the hostess, that I could not bid you 
welcome on the threshold of our home. I hope that my 
deputies,” looking at the twins, acquitted themselves well 
of the honor the occasion bestowed upon them.” 

‘^They did that,” said Herbal, I bear witness to that 
effect, and will further state that they demonstrated a cor- 
diality such as I missed for myself. Fancy, dear sister,” 
he continued, they took possession of Miss Powell’s hands, 
almost dragging her upstairs, in their eagerness to bring to 
you their American cousin.” 

Turning to Helen with a pleasant smile, he asked : “ Have 
tneir large, brawny English hands squeezed yours hard. 
Miss Powell ?” 

‘‘You shall not make us hide our big hands, uncle ! ” re- 
torted Vic., mischievously. “ If we could not help admir- 
ing the Miss Powell of your description, how can you blame 
us falling downright in love with the real Miss Powell be- 
‘^ore us ? ” 

^ Poth girls again took hold of Helen’s hands, and, gazing 
into Qj. asked : “Do you like us. Miss P 3 well ?” 

Yej 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


6i 


‘‘ Did you hear that, uncle ? The lady likes us, and far 
better than she likes you. Try and see if Miss Powell will 
permit your big hands to rest in hers ! There, you naughty 
uncle ; you have^ got your deserts now, and you will not so 
soon criticise our hands again.” 

Helen’s face was covered with crimson ; but, self-pos- 
sessed, she smiled at Herbal and said : 

“ This is the outcome of firing the imagination of the 
young; they must then naturally become so predisposed 
toward the object or subject that the illusion tricks them 
into an hallucination.” 

Then, turning to the girls, she said : I am pleased to 
hear that you like me, and assure you that I reciprocate the 
sentiment.” 

Herbal now turned to the twins: You naughty vixens, 
shame on you to expose your uncle’s hands, after having 
tried so hard to squeeze them into a No. 12 glove,” he said, 
laughingly. 

Presently, Herbal proposed to the Judge that they pay a 
visit to the stables and kennels. 

Lady Darvey dismissed the twins, she and Helen remain- 
ing the sole occupants of the room. 

Lady Darvey had no claim to beauty. Her eyes of a 
heavenly blue, like Helen’s, were mild, yet full of expression. 
Her face was invariably lit up by a smile, irresistible in its 
charm ; a stately and graceful figure ; these were her outer 
advantages. A well-informed mind, a heart sympatiietic to 
the touch of mankind, were her inner, her greater charms. 

Helen had cast a furtive glance around the room, and 
then met the eyes of her hostess. 


62 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


This my private sitting room,” said Lady Darvey ; my 
sanctuary, as I call it, into which I permit no one to pen- 
etrate but my immediate family. From the description my 
brother gave me of you, I felt a strong desire to meet you. 
Not able to leave this room, I received you here. I am 
glad because of it. I like your face, Miss Powell,” she con- 
tinued, and I am sure that I will like you even more, for 
your own self. I hope you will be able to reciprocate the 
feeling, and that we may become friends.” Saying these 
last words, she held out her hands to Helen. 

Helen replied with warmth : Indeed, Lady Darvey, you 
tempt me much to take you at your word. I only fear that 
your predisposition for a stranger, because of Mr. Herbal’s 
kindly overdrawn and flattering opinion has placed me be- 
fore you upon a higher plane than I may be able to main- 
tain.” 

Modesty itself. Miss Powell, sufiices to keep my friend- 
ship, for it outweighs many other shortcomings. I honestly 
meant what I have said,” continued Lady Darvey, and to 
prove it, I ’ll take the liberty and call you Helen — provided 
you grant me the privilege. If you do, I will insist that 
you call me ‘ Bella.’ My name is Isabella. I like the shorter 
name better.” 

‘‘In the language of sunny Italy, Bella means handsome. 
You can now divine why I like the name Bella. My hus- 
band thus always calls me handsome. Even if he does not 
think me so now, he maj" do so from custom later,” said 
Lady Darvey, with a charming smile. Continuing, she 
asked; “Do you admire this room? Yes? But it is not 
what you expected. The sewing-machine is disenclianting. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


63 


Please tell me, do they in your country think us women 
here an indolent, pleasure-seeking lot? From descriptions 
they must believe us a gay set, with no other thought but 
that of pleasure. I hope they are made aware that we are 
reforming now, that we belong to needle women societies, 
temperance, and all sorts of charitable organizations to 
help ameliorate the condition of our poor. Formerly we 
contributed a few pounds to charity, but otherwise took but 
little interest in them. We even have organized dress re- 
form, and all sorts of retrenchments from extravagance. 
Have we not turned, as the saying goes, from the ridiculous 
to the sublime ?” 

^‘Do you do your own sewing?” asked Helen archly, 
looking at the sewing machine. 

“ No,” replied Lady Darvey, with a smile, I will con- 
fide in you that I do not run that vulgar thing myself ; I 
employ a substitute, who makes all the wearing apparel I 
desire to present to the ragged-school society. It flatters 
me to impress these trades-ladies that I am working for the 
poor. It is so condescending, so amiable; and the newspa- 
pers reporting Lady Darvey here. Lady Darvey there. Is 
not this sublime ? I don’t know how long the craze will 
last ; I suppose until it wears off ; but so long as it does last, 
I must be in the fashion, you know !” 

The speaker had tried to be serious, but Helen easily de- 
tected her raillery. 

‘‘ My dear Lady Darvey — oh, no ! my dear Bella, I meant 
to say,” said Helen, with a smile. It is a pity that you 
ladies turned sublime. The sooner you return to your for- 
mer state of society, and to its extravagant pleasures, the 


64 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


better it will be for mankind in general. If you persist in re- 
maining sublime, you will soon increase the numbers depend- 
ing on your charity. Before I left home,” continued Helen, 
I kept Mrs. Ryan, my dressmaker, and her girls busy for 
nearly two months. After she had completed my work, 
some other foolish woman, like myself, gave her more. It 
meant a living for them. But for the work, Mrs. Ryan and 
the girls might have lived in want, or on charit3^ I had 
made up my mind to start on rny tour with my wardrobe 
complete and made at home. Mrs. Ryan suited my taste, 
and that was all I wanted. Should I find that I am not 
altogether in fashion here, I will get a few more dresses. 
As much patriotism as I have to patronize our own trades 
and working people, I feel not amiss to leave some of my 
surplus means amongst those whose hospitality I enjoy. The 
follies of the rich and well-to-do people, help the toiling 
masses by far more than their charity could. We are ready 
to spend thousands for pleasure and even whims, without 
flinching at the amount; how much of these thousands 
would we part with for charity ? ” 

What a peep into humanity at your age ! ” exclaimed 
Lady Darvey. I will give your thoughts expression 
amongst my set. Such lucid reasoning that yours is must 
justify our returning to a life so delightful to us and so 
beneficial to mankind.” 

What is beneficial to mankind ? ” inquired the voice of 
a gentleman who had suddenly entered the room — who, 
after bowing politely to Helen, kissed Lady Darvey affec- 
tionately on her cheeks. 

How 3^11 startled me, Fred ! Husbands have no con- 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


65 


sideration for their wives’ nerves,” said Lady Darvey to 
Helen. If ever you marry, have your betrothed sign be- 
forehand an agreement to the effect that he will never enter 
your room unless he first knocks at your door.” 

‘‘ 1 have some friends,” said Helen, archly, who call on 
me frequently. I told them to dispense with that formal- 
ity, for I thought that they may feel more like visiting a 
friend.” 

Thanks, Miss Powell, for taking the weaker part,” said 
Lord Darvey. “ But for you my dear wife might have co- 
erced me to sign the agreement she just now spoke of, 
even after eight years of married life.” 

“ How well you look. Miss Powell,” Lord Darvey con- 
tinued. You will take immensely! Now, don’t blush; 
I know that you ladies consult the looking-glass daily ; it 
must tell you the same tale — only without sound ; therefore 
nature appointed us its mouthpiece.” 

“ My Lord,” said Lady Darvey, “ I am surprised 1 Where 
did you hear such a nice little speech? You must have 
committed it to memory for this occasion, for never since I 
have known you, have you said half so nice a thing in my 
presence.” 

Does she not look the most unhappy woman on account 
of it 1 What a brute I must be,” said Lord Darvey, with 
a merry twinkle in his eyes. I must inform you,” he con- 
tinued, that I am the bearer of a surprise to you. I met 
a friend of ours — a compatriot of your’s. Miss Powell. The 
gentleman arrived this morning in our city. Guess who he 
is.” 

You know, Fred, that I am poor at guessing; besides. 


66 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


we have so many friends in the States. Tell me all about 
him. There, dear, don’t keep me in suspense.” 

After the inaugural service I ordered the coachman to 
stop at the Northwestern. I intended inquiring if Judge 
Brown and you, Miss Powell, had left for our house. In 
the vestibule I met Frank Van Alden. You may imagine 
my surprise. I insisted on his coming with me, but could 
only exact his promise to come to luncheon. He looks re- 
markably well,” he continued ; eight years’ time has 
changed the handsome youtli to a fine-looking man.” 

This is indeed a surprise,” exclaimed Lady Harvey. 

Addressing Helen, she asked: ‘^Ho you know the Yan- 
Aldens of New York? They are distant relatives of Lord 
Harvey by his former marriage.” 

“ I met a gentleman by that name in my native place 
He visited some friends there. The gentleman is the only* 
one by that name I know,” replied Helen. 

A slight tint had overspread Helen’s face, on hearing the 
name Yan Alden. By the time Lady Harvey inquired if 
she knew a gentleman by that name, no trace of it was 
visible. 

AYhy it had appeared, who can tell ! The solution of 
this must be left to the fair readers, who, in their social life 
have met a fascinating, handsome man, paying them marked 
attentions, who suddenly vanishes from their horizon, to re- 
appear again unexpectedly. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


67 


CHAPTER XL 

Ever since Frank Yan Alden had left Morgan ville, he 
could not efface Helen’s lovely image from his memory. 
She subjected his thoughts entirely, and when about to seek 
her in her home, he had heard that she had left for other 
climes and countries, to return, perhaps, lost to him forever, 
he resolved to follow her, find her, and if possible win her 
for himself. 

Did he love ? Had he not loved Clare with an undying 
devotion, as he had thought, and proved wanting in it ? 

Are men capable of love to the full extent of their capa- 
city before they approach the sense of dignified maturity? 
Had he now reached that maturity ? The silken cords that 
fetter him to a life for which the gods themselves could 
have envied him, does he intend to rend them asunder for 
love ? Who knows, who can fathom the human soul ? 

We are aware of Yan Alden’s arrival in Liverpool and 
that he had declined to accompany Lord Darvey. He had 
intended making inquiries concerning the arrival of the 
Judge and Helen, and ascertain where they had alighted. 

The clerk at the Northwestern informed him that the 
party were the guests of the house — not in at present, on a 
visit to Lady Darvey. 

What a coincidence, thought Yan Alden; so full of good 
omens for him. How came they on visiting terms there ? 
’T is strange that Lord Darvey never mentioned them. 
Miss Powell — will she be surprised to meet him ? Shall he 


68 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


let her surmise the truth ? She would divine it, if he chose 
that she should. Her demeanor would then manifest any 
propensity she may feel for him. Thus soliloquized he. 

He well knew that Helen was not a girl who would be 
smitten with even a handsome man on short notice ; but he 
thought that their social tete-adetes in Morganville had 
somewhat prepossessed her in his favor, and is she not, 
woman-like, susceptible to the batteries plied by a skillful 
gunner ? 

Our hero was not vain — men never are — only conscious 
of the attributes nature and education had favored him with. 
Besides, the gentler sex never failed to remind him of it. 

On entering Lord Harvey’s mansion. Van Aldenwas met 
by a servant who had received orders to usher the new- 
comer into Lady Harvey’s presence. 

‘‘I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Van Alden,” said 
Lady Harvey, holding her hand out to him, which he car- 
ried politely to his lips. ‘‘ You must pardon my not rising 
to receive you. The delicate state, if not of my health, at 
least of a sprained ankle — very painful, prevents it. It is 
quite flattering to us to be the recipients of your visit, 
having only arrived this morning.” 

I am grateful for the welcome you so kindly express,” 
said Yan Alden. I, myself, feel delighted to meet you 
again. The pain you speak of finds no reflection in your 
countenance, which is all sunshine.” 

“ I am aware of the rapid progress you people in the 
States have made. It would seem that you are no la 2 :gards 
in the admirable art of flattery. I know of old that you are 
not prone to i*ender yourself guilty of downright flattery 5 


VAN AI.DEN, JR. 


69., 


therefore the compliment you paid me is acceptable, and is 
enhanced by the knowledge that you are competent author- 
ity in such matters,” said Lady Darvey, with a bewitching 
smile. 

‘‘ Apropos,” the lady continued ; we have some guests. 
Judge Brown and his niece. Miss Powell. Lord Darvey is 
at present escorting them through the grounds. I believe 
you met them in their native place, whilst visiting there. 
Miss Powell spoke of it.” 

Yes; I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Powell and 
the Judge in Morgan ville,” replied Van Alden. 

“ My brother Herbal had the pleasure of being a fellow 
passenger of theirs. To him we are indebted for the 
pleasure of meeting them for the first time today. Miss 
Powell is a lovely being ! The handsomest girl I have met 
since I remember. So well bred — so natural. You are 
aware,” Lady Darvey continued, ‘‘that I meet many of 
your countrymen. I find amongst them many very hand- 
some ones ; some of the handsomest ; distinguished looking ; 
with polished manners, and well informed ; only somewhat 
artificial and superficial. Where has Miss Powell been 
brought up, and who coached her into such lovely woman- 
hood ? I am informed that the lady was left an orphan at 
a tender age. My brother is all enthusiasm about her. ’Tis 
a pity that he is past an age to inspire a young girl with a 
fancy. How strange that you gentlemen in the States per- 
mitted such a jewel of a woman to escape you. Miss 
Powell will take immensely, as my husband expresses it. 
She will turn the heads of our marriageable dukes, at least, 
and win for herself a ducal crown. You are undoubtedly 


70 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


aware that your countrywomen are keen and successful 
competitors in our matrimonial market,” added Lady 
Darvey, with a smile. 

Ere Yan Alden could reply voices were heard approach- 
ing. Helen, followed by Herbal, the Judge, and Lord 
Darvey entered the room. 

Yan Alden noticed the rising color in Helen’s lovely 
face. Pressing her shapely hand held out to him, with 
warmth, he told her how well pleased he felt to meet her again. 

Helen replied in similar terms. 

After exchanging courtesies with the Judge and Herbal, 
Yan Alden again approached Helen, saying, ‘‘I anticipated 
meeting you in England, but never dreamt that I should 
have that pleasure on the day of my arrival.” 

“ You were then informed of our having left the States ?” 
inquired Helen, without indicating surprise. Our resolu- 
tion to travel came suddenly ; I had expressed a desire to 
go abroad, and my dear uncle thought best to undertake 
the journey at once ; his good health permitting him to be- 
come my cicerone, as he named himself. Mr. Herbal 
gained us over for a short stay in this city. The induce- 
ment the gentleman held out to us was the introduction to 
our host and hostess (looking pleasantly at both). You 
must thank Mr. Herbal for meeting us so unexpectedly, 
which, as you kindly expressed, gives you pleasure.” 

Helen had said this with a look of indiscribable charm. 

Lady Darvey gazed at Helen’s animated, lovely counte- 
nance, and thought that the ducal crown would have to 
yield to that handsome, Apollo-like man, be he only a citizen 
of the States. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


71 


CHAPTER XII. 

The blind artist had heard his child’s cry of agony, and 
the thud of her body as it struck the ground. Rushing in 
wild dismay toward the spot from whence the sound had 
come, he raised her, and shrieked in a heart rendering 
voice: “You have killed my child ! You have killed my 
darling child ! Touch not her body, for your touch would 
be pollution. 

“You came here with vile thoughts, with the prejudice 
of your caste. You entered this house, convinced my child 
to be venal ; that she had allured your nephew. You came 
as his envoy to barter for his release from a disgraceful 
connection. Finding her father, you believed him guilty 
of connivance and living on the proceeds of her sin. The 
thought that she may have been the innocent victim of a 
vile man’s art could not have entered a mind like yours. 
We are not the equals of your proud purse ; therefore, you 
believed us ignominious, unworthy to be heard, before con- 
demning ; a right no honorable man, be he even of exalted 
station in life, would deny to the humblest of his fellow 
beings. Your message has killed her. 

“ Rejoice at your work, for your nephew is now free 
without the ransom you intended offering, which leaves 
your purse intact. Go hence, and take with you the curse 
of her blind, now altogether helpless father. Vengeance 
will overtake you and yours, as pitiless as you have shown 
yourself to us.” 


72 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


On Reuben Van Alden’s face a deathly hue had spread ; 
motionless and speechless he stood, listening with awe to 
the bitter words the blind father hissed into his ears ; each 
of them cutting deeply into his heart and soul. He could 
not reply; could not attempt to palliate what the blind 
artist had accused him of. ’T was a mistake ! He had 
made himself guilty of a wrong against them both. He 
could not right it with words and must go hence ; but be- 
fore he went, he would see that the unfortunate girl, who 
had only fainted, received succor. 

The servants had carried Clare to her room. The doctor, 
who lived but a short distance from the cottage, being sum- 
moned, declared that a sudden shock had caused Clare’s 
fainting ; that she would soon recover; only that he appre- 
hends a serious illness. 

Reuben Yan Alden had waited for the doctor’s return 
from the cottage, to inquire about the condition of the 
patient. 

The doctor spoke of the fears he entertained. 

‘‘My dear sir,” said Yan Alden, “ you must spare no 
pains nor cost to insure her recovery, if possible. If need 
be, my own physician. Professor Langly, will assist you. I 
will deem it a great favor if you will keep me informed of 
Mrs. Gray’s condition. Here is my card.” 

Dr. Wilmot read the name (« familiar one by hearsay), 
and said : “ On your arrival in New York send at once for 
Professor Langly, for I apprehend the worst. I will inform 
you frequently of the progress the malady makes.” 

Reuben Yan Alden returned to New York with the first 
outgoing boat. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


73 


Clare, from a vague fear of having lost Frank’s love, had 
suffered untold agony of mind and heart this long time. 
The positive knowledge of her disgrace, and that her father 
had learned of the deception practiced on him, unstrung 
her mind. 

Dr. "Wilmot’s fears were only too well founded. 

Professor Langly arrived the following day. 

Reuben Van Alden had informed the Professor of the 
probable cause of her malady. 

’Tis a serious case,” remarked the Professor to Dr. Wil- 
mot, as he gave the needful instructions for the remedies 
he thought best to administer; and then addressing the 
blind artist, said: “Your daughter is seriously ill. Her 
recovery depends on the vigor of youth to battle against 
the onslaught the malady will make on her. We must avoid 
everything that may tend to excite and alarm the patient. 
You will therefore comprehend my enjoining you and your 
grand-child (that had better be left with friends) from en- 
tering this room after you now leave it. It is a hardship 
that I now impose on you, but you will acquiesce to my 
injunction, because of a life that is dear to you. I will 
send a nurse for whose faithful attention I can vouch. I 
will call again, if Dr. Wilmot sends me word.” Pressing 
the blind artist’s hand and bidding him be of good cheer, 
the Professor left. 


74 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

Clare’s illness engrossed her father’s thoughts to the ex- 
clusion of all others. 

Days and nights he kept vigil in the adjoining room. 

The nurse would occasionally enter to cheer liis heart 
with a faint hope. 

Dr. Wihnot had sent a message for Professor Langly to 
CDxUe at once. 

On his arrival and entrance into the sick chamber, he 
perceived the patient’s alarming condition. Send immedi- 
ately for Dr. Wilmot,” he said to the nurse. “I will remain 
in the room until you have despatched the messenger.” 

The Professor felt the patient’s pulse, counted its wild 
strokes, and gazed pityingly on the young face ; lovely even 
on the brink of eternity. 

The nurse returning, he entered the adjoining room, 
occupied by her father. 

Good morning, Mr. Gray,” he said, grasping the hand 
held out to him. 

‘‘How is my child today. Doctor?” the blind artist in- 
quired. “ Is there hope ? I beseech you tell me, for the 
suspense is killing.” 

“ This day,” said the Professor, will decide all. Let us 
hope for the best, and be prepared for the worst. If earthly 
skill proves unavailing. He, enthroned above, may ablaze 
with a breath the smouldering flame of life.” 

The blind artist, who had listened to. the solemn words of 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 75 

the Professor, felt the last ray of hope leaving him. In the 
agony of grief he shrieked, My poor, poor child ! ” 

My friend,” said the Professor, deeply moved, “ what 
can I say to comfort you in this dire moment of your 
grief ? ” 

Bring me to her side, bring me to her,” uttered he, rising 
to his feet, and stepping toward the door separating him 
from the death chamber of his child. 

Be calm, I beg of you be calm,” said the Professor. 

Were you4o enter in your paroxysm of grief, you would 
destroy the only chance by which nature may snatch her 
life from the very jaws of death. You may enter her 
room,” he continued, but utter not a word.” He then led 
the grief-stricken father to the bedside, before which the 
latter knelt in silent prayer. 

It is I who killed her,” he murmured ; “ for I wished 
her dead, rather than live a life of shame. The Almighty 
took me at my word. Life to me will be henceforth but a 
barren wilderness.” 

Father, dear father,” whispered Clare in her delirium. 

I loved him — oh ! how I loved him ! — and-and-I awoke in 
his embrace dishonored. He could not make me his wife 
then, he had said, but would later. The later never came. 
No — it never came ! ” 

’Tis he,” she continued, raving, “ who counseled the de- 
ception. I consented, else break poor father’s heart. Now 
mine and his are broken.” 

Where is my child ? where is my darling ? ” she con- 
tinued. Oh — here it is — kiss me darling — kiss your 

mamma? Here — granny — take her — go. Flora, go to 


76 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


grandpa; he will bless you for tonight. Watch over her, 
dear father, so she remains spotless and pure, and not, like 
— oh ! how this kills ! Yes ! It kills ! ” 

Doctor Wilmot had entered the room, exchanging a 
knowing look with Professor Langley. Addressing the 
blind artist, he said : ‘‘A gentleman sends you this card; 
he is waiting for a message. His name is Martini.” 

The blind artist, hearing the name, rose with surprising 
agility to his feet, and turning toward the voice that had 
uttered Martini’s name, he said : Bring me to him at 
once ; he must not enter this room, at least not now.” 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


77 


CHAPTER :XIV. 

In the sitting room below, on the sofa, sat a gentleman 
gazing expectantly at the door. He is a man about thirty- 
five years of age, of medium height, with a bronzed face, 
dark piercing eyes, high forehead ; with an air denoting a 
gentleman of refinement, of an intellectual mind and culti- 
vated tastes. His was not a handsome face, but pleasing 
withal. Just now it would touch the beholder with a feel- 
ing of sympathy, for it spoke of a hidden grief. 

Martini, after landing in New York and transacting the 
business requiring his immediate attention, took the boat 
for N — , to meet there his dear old friend and her — who, 
although lost to him, had never failed to fill his soul. 
Now a wife and mother, he thought he could meet her and 
gaze once more on her dear face with calmness and resig- 
nation. 

On the foot-path leading to the cottage he had met Dr. 
Wilmot, from whose lips he learned of Claire’s dangerous, 
nigh hopeless, condition. 

On the entrance of the blind artist. Martini gazed at him 
with indescribable emotion. Approaching, he clasped him 
to his heart, saying : Thus we meet again, my poor, dear 
friend I” 

The blind artist sobbed convulsively as his head rested on 
the shoulder of the sculptor. ‘‘ Alas, my friend, I must 
give her up ! Yes, I must give her up ! ” he murmured. 

The doctor had silently withdrawn. 


78 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


The half hour in which the sculptor had listened to his 
friend’s sad narrative wrought a great change in his looks. 

Martini’s face had changed to a livid hue ; his quivering 
lips muttered silent maledictions upon Clare’s betrayer. Is 
it possible ? Clare, whom he would never have sullied even 
in thought, he found tainted by one into whose care he had 
resigned her implicitly ; whose love for her he had never 
doubted, and whose honor he had thought beyond suspi- 
cion. Oh ! it is terrible to believe all that he had just heard. 

Both friends had entered the death chamber. 

The dying girl’s tresses had been clipped, giving her face 
a childlike appearance. She stirred restlessly about ; her 
eyes were only half closed, her parched mouth open. 

Martini looked long, long into that dear face, and then 
upon the bent body of her father. His hope in life had 
been quenched long ago. Now his heart was utterly 
crushed. His love — ’tis true, had been hopeless, but he had 
rejoiced at least in the belief that she, for whose life he 
could have shed his heart’s blood, had found happiness in 
the love of one whom he had thought better fitted to shed 
lustre on her life than he himself could. Now she lies 
there with death imprinted on her face ; little more than a 
child herself she leaves an offspring. Alas ! that of shame. 
A frail bark to be tossed about and wrecked upon the pit- 
falls of life like its mother. 

‘^No! no! dear Clare,” he murmured, taking her hand 
gently into his, by your sacred memory — by the true and 
undying love I bore you — I vow in this supreme and awful 
moment of your death, that your child shall find in me lov- 
ing succor ! ” 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


79 


It was a marvel how the blind father passed through the 
ordeal. NoWj a prey to hope, and again to misery ; and 
when that young life had ebbed away he lost tlie only treas- 
ure he had held on earth. The universe, so rich to others, 
was now but a wilderness to him. 

Clare died with the setting of the sun. Its declining 
rays had cast a parting glance upon that poor girl’s last 
breath ; as if bidding an adieu to its ' kindred. Clare had 
been her father’s orb, illuminating his darkness, and it had 
set to him forever. 


8o 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XV. 

No pen could adequately describe the grief of her father, 
who had lost all that was dearest to his heart. Her life 
now was extinct ; he could not recall it. Life at the best 
would have been but a burden to her, that would have 
crushed her sooner or later. Her heart-strings were snapped 
by a cruel blow, dealt by one, whom, from all others, she 
had elected to bring life’s joy to it ! It was the knowledge 
of this which gnawed on his heart and mind. And he is 
but a blind, helpless man, unable to mete out to that villian 
the just punishment for the cruel wrong perpetrated upon 
his child. That guilty wretch still strides the earth, and as 
his lustful eyes covet it, he will pluck here and there more 
victims, and bring sorrow* and desolation to other hearts 
and homes. And the Bible teaches, ‘^That God is just, 
protects the innocent, and smites the evil-doer with His 
wrath.” 

When the time came for Clare’s body to be lowered into 
its last resting place, father and friend stood by the grave 
uttering fervent, silent prayers that her soul may rest in 
peace forever. 

After the simple but impressive rituals of the church the 
blind man, led by Martini, returned to the now desolate 
home. 

Martini was overpowered with the emotions of the last 
few days. Clare’s image would float before his eyes, and 
then again the room seemed full of phantoms, each resem- 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


8i 


bling Clare’s betrayer’s ghastly corpse. His mind seemed 
confused, his body overpowered with a nervousness and 
restlessness. He must not succumb to that ; not now. 

Can they, with unholy passions soiled through the con- 
tact with vice around them, comprehend the turmoil in a 
man’s mind and heart ; who full of noble instincts, capable 
of the purest love, finds the altar before which he had wor- 
shiped desecrated by one into whose hands he had yielded 
his holiest for safe-keeping ? 

Martini was crushed by the blow that had fallen so sud- 
denly and unexpectedly on him. His thoughts were filled 
with reminiscences of her loveliness — who was the compeer 
of the purest and noblest of her sex — and this was the end 
of a life that once had been so promising. He thought of 
his struggles to smoulder at least the glowing embers in his 
heart, because Clare could not respond to his love. And 
she had loved that man ! 

He had since lived, ’tis true, and pursued the even tenor 
of a joyless life, because of a hope to meet her again, to hear 
again the sweet tones of her voice. He had met her at 
last, only to gaze on her face, in the throes of death. It 
was not until after the funeral that he experienced the dark- 
ness that had fallen upon his life. He had suffered before, 
but not with the intensity that he suffered now. One ray 
of comfort broke upon him. The thought of her child, and 
of his now helpless friend, both depending on his loving care. 

Two days after Clare’s body had been laid to rest, Mar- 
tini, the blind artist and child, took the boat for New York, 
leaving the cottage in care of a trusted servant for the dis- 
posal of Van Alden. 


8 ^ 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Helen had accepted Van Alden’s invitation to the opera. 
She looked ravishingly beautiful as she appeared before her 
escort, with a flush and pleased smile on her face, his ad- 
miring glances had produced. 

Her complexion was of a transparency that belongs to her 
age. Her hair was a golden hue, luxurient. Her superb 
eyes impressed you for their depth of purity and innocence. ^ 
Her every movement was that of grace and reflnement. 
She was exquisitely dressed, not with intent of display, but 
careful to every detail, for which some women deserve the 
highest praise. 

At the first strains of the overture Helen and her escort 
entered the opera-box. The house was tremendously 
crowded with the elite of Liverpool, it being a gala perform- 
ance in honor of the royal visitor. 

The curtain had risen. 

Helen, who loved music, listened attentively to the artistic 
rendering of Verdi’s scores. 

Van Alden noticed her rapt attention. He had listened 
to the music of Traviata many times before. 

After the curtain had descended amidst the plaudits of 
the spectators, Helen turned her gaze upon her admirer, 
saying : I must crave your pardon because of my undi- 
vided attention to the music. I could not resist the desire 
to listen to every note flowing so crystal-like and sweetly 
from the Diva’s throat.” 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 83 

Is this the first time that you have listened to the music 
of Traviata?” asked Van Alden. 

‘‘Yes,” replied Helen, “although I am familiar with 
some of its scores. Who is not ?” 

“ Are you familiar with the plot?” inquired Van Alden. 

“ I think I am. It ’s somewhat similar to ‘ Camille.’ ” 

“ And have you enjoyed the play as well ?” inquired Van 
• Alden. 

“ I enjoyed the acting, but disliked the plot and some of 
the characters portrayed.” 

“ Which are the characters you most dislike in ‘ Ca- 
mille V ” asked V an Alden, gazing at her in a manner 
which reassured her as to his motive in having asked the 
question. 

Helen did not reply at once. Had any other gentleman 
requested her opinion, she would have answered evasively. 
After a pause, she said : “ I despise the character of Ar- 
mand / pity Camille^ and sympathize with the father.” 

“Woman-like,” remarked Van Alden, pleasantly. 

“ Do you think us partial to our sex ?” inquired Helen. 

“ ’T is natural that you should feel inclined that way,” 
he replied. 

“You judge us better than mankind in general. It is 
said that woman is woman’s greatest enemy. Thanks, Mr. 
Van Alden, for your more charitable opinion,” said Helen 
archly, adding : “ Do you expect me to give you the reason 
for despising the one, pitying the second, and sympathising 
with the last ?” 

“ I have a natural curiosity to hear your criticism,” re- 
plied Van Alden. 


84 VAN ALDEN, JR. 

A knock at the door elicited Van Alden’s invitation to 
enter. 

Lord Darvey, Herbal and the Judge were the newcomers. 

Van Alden arose and offering his chair to Lord Darvey, 
said : My lord, pray have the kindness to lift the incog- 
nito of the many interesting persons here assembled, for the 
benefit of Miss Powell.” 

Lord Darvey, bowing politely to Helen, accepted the 
proffered seat, saying : Whilst your opera glass will assist 
you to discern the faces interesting you most, my tongue 
will portray their pedigrees, if I know them.” 

Helen smiled, saying pleasantly, ‘‘Mr. Van Alden pene- ' 
trates the thoughts and wishes of my sex on such like occa- 
sions. I admit that, having noticed many lovely faces and 
most elegant toilets, I long to know more of their owners — 
at least from hearsay. I therefore accept you as an instructor, 
my lord, and will ask you at once who that lovely girl is, 
opposite, in the second box to the right.” 

“ She is the daughter of Sir Dalker, a very rich distiller, 
whom our most gracious queen has knighted because of his 
munificence to our city. He is indeed a liberal gentleman, 
who readily parts with at least some of his gains, honorable 
and highly esteemed. ’T is true that the seed he helps to 
sow buds into a poisonous fruit, which, if tasted, eats into 
the vitals of mankind. Who can blame him, because of a 
husbandry that is fostered, encouraged and protected by the 
government that thrives on its revenue. Who will blame 
him for a husbandry the millions envy, and would gladly 
follow a calling that ultimately brings emoluments and 
^ honor. For the loathsome scenes the gentleman’s traffic 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


85 


brings to the surface, and that offends so much the eyes, his 
munificence invites us to other scenes — tlie productions of a 
Raphael, a Rubens, a Van Dyke, etc., men superior in art, 
but who never reaped such golden harvest. 

The gentleman with them is a newspaper man, who, 
after leading a checkered career, became a political writer. 
He is now an avowed Republican, who gloats in his mind 
at the power he wields, that shall undermine the throne, 
destroy aristocracy, all established government, and transfer 
the legislative and executive power upon the streets. In 
the meantime the gentleman adopts the air and manners, as 
well as the expensive habits of the hated aristocracy.’’ 

Interrupting himself suddenly, he said : I must beg 
your pardon. Miss Powell, for having deviated from my 
duty to introduce to your notice only such objects as may 
interest you.” 

“ My lord,” said Helen, you possess the art of interest- 
ing me even in objects not of my own choosing. I can only 
be the gainer by following your lead.” 

Thank you, Miss Powell,” said Lord Darvey, pleasantly. 

The curtain had again risen, and Helen’s attention was 
directed once more toward the stage. 

Herbal and the Judge were discussing the political agi- 
tations of the day, the Irish question, land-league, evic- 
tions, etc. 

“We Americans,” said the Judge, “sympathize with 
people appealing to us for help in a deserving cause. We 
assist Ireland’s agitation with our purses, but do not thereby 
imply our approval of all the means they adopt to gain their 
end. I will say as much in favor of your government, 


86 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


that our sheriffs, charged with the execution of the mandates 
of the courts, would, if need be, use Gatling guns, instead 
of battering rams, to enforce submission to a law enrolled 
upon the statute book.” 

“ How long do you intend remaining in the city ? ” in- 
quired Van Alden of the Judge. 

“We have concluded to depart for London on Monday 
next,” replied the Judge. “We will remain there a fort- 
night, and then leave for Scotland, a country full of interest 
to myself and niece. It is my parents’ native land.” 

Shortly before the curtain had dropped on the finale^ 
Lord Darby, Herbal and the Judge had left the box. 

Helen and Van Alden, on leaving the theatre, were the 
magnet that attracted the admiring glances of the people 
surging through the corridors towards the exit. Rightly 
so, for they were, indeed, a strikingly handsome couple — 
one may as well say, “ a masterpiece of the human mould.” 

In the dining-room of the hotel, supper awaited them. 

“ I thank you for the very pleasant evening, Mr. Van 
Alden,” said Helen. “ How nice it is to meet friends in a 
foreign country, and so unexpectedly at that. What a 
delightful afternoon I spent in the charming company of 
Lord and Lady Darvy, Mr. Herbald, and in yours also, Mr. 
Van Alden.” 

“My dear Helen,” said the Judge, smilingly, “I fear 
that you’ve had too much of a good thing in one day. It 
may unfit you for our tomorrow’s contemplated excursion.” 

Helen looked at the Judge roguishly, saying, “ You are 
broaching the possibility of my disappointing you to- 
morrow, and keeping you at home, Avatching my poor 


VAN ALDRN, JR. 


87 


exhausted self, instead'of the pleasure you anticipated from 
the visit to the ancient Chester Cathedral. No fear! I 
will be ready tomorrow in good time.” Turning to Van 
Alden, she said : “ Would you care to be one of the party ? 
Perhaps you have nothing better on hand.” 

Yan Alden accepted the invitation with thanks. 


88 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

My dear Helen,” said Mrs. Befcts, a widow, who had 
been Helen’s trusted nurse in childhood, it does my heart 
good to see you looking so well and fresh after your day’s 
dissipation. I wonder, my dear, if that handsome gen- 
tleman, your former visitor in Morganville, has purposely 
followed you across. Wliy, dear child, you need not blush. 
’Tis nothing wrong to fall in love with the handsome girl 
that you are. Neither is it wrong if a girl falls in love with 
such a handsome fellow, provided she knows that he be 
worthy of her affections. You will have the pick of many. 
I hope you will choose the right one. It is terrible to 
choose the wrong one.” 

‘^My dear Marian,” said Helen, ‘^you are surmising mat- 
ters of which I have not even dreamt. Mr. Van Alden is a 
gentleman who can choose his time for travel, or any other 
pursuit, at will. It is but a coincident that we have met. 
The gentleman that he is, he may feel like showing me some 
polite attentions — no more nor less than he would to any 
lady he knows and meets. If he followed me on purpose, he 
must let me become aware of it. If he does — well, then, I 
will think it over, and see what I will think of it. I do 
not intend to have my good night’s rest spoiled by you. 
There ! Now let us retire, and say no more about it.” 

Helen had her night’s rest considerably curtailed. Mrs. 
Betts had told her what she herself suspected, only she had 
no desire that the knowledge of it should rob her of many 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


89 


hours of sleep. But she could not prevent it. She could 
not understand why that handsome fellow occupies lier 
thoughts, even whilst preferring sleep to wakefulness. If 
she enjoys looking at nice things, nice people, handsome 
ladies, and even handsome men, in day-time, she had hith- 
erto never given them a thought at bed-time. Now, she, 
lies with her eyes tiglitly closed, and yet that handsome 
fellow’s face and form creeps persistently before her gaze. 
She had always maintained, and still maintains, that it would 
not be a handsome man, she would care treasuring in 
her thoughts and heart ; a property that one must daily 
expose to the longing gaze of the many coveting it, alluring 
it, and, ultimately, to be robbed of. ‘‘ Poor me ! ” she solil- 
oquized, if such is the case, and it is not less true what I 
am often told, that I am handsome ; and if men think as I, 
Uncle Bob will surely have me cheering his lonely hours 
for life. No ! Women are different from men ! This 
last thought relieved the anxiety she felt coming over her, 
not because of a fear of her remaining Uncle Bob’s com- 
panion. Oh, no! But because of a probability of becoming 
a forlorn, lonely old maid, later. She had always heard 
(rightly or wrongly) that old maids are a spiteful, disa- 
greeable, sour-looking sort of beings ; and she would not 
care to grow to be that. Oh, no ! Yes, she soliloquized, 
handsome women are different from handsome men. So 
very much different 1 Has she not often been told how 
these fine-looking fellows in society, and on the streets, 
challenge, unblushingly, women’s admiration ; but an ad- 
miring, impertinent glance (which she never challenges) of 
unknown men, brings to her face a fiush of indignation. 


90 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


Wherefore the difference ? Mrs. Loewenhaupt, her friend 
and teacher, often told her, ’tis because of men’s public 
life, and from their unrestricted mode of living, that their 
sense of nicety gets rubbed off, and begets habits and tastes, 
with which we women can feel nothing in common ; and 
that our sex has been created, and is called upon to lend, if 
we can, a helping hand with which to lead them in due 
time into a channel of safety, repose, and true happiness ; 
provided, we have not ourselves forfeited the right, and 
have not lost our fitness to accomplish our mission. 

If wakefulness at bedtime is the beginning of what 
one calls love, then surely she must be on the verge of 
loving. 

How strange ! Is it possible that she feels akin to love for 
a man who is undoubtedly the handsomest she had ever 
met, but of whom she has seen so little, and only because 
he is a fascinating and dashing society man. Is she about 
to become prey to that turbulent feeling she has read so 
much about in books, and heard spoken of in real life ? A 
feeling that casts to the winds every vestige of calm reason- 
ing, blinding our mind, not only to trifiing imperfections 
with which every human being is more or less afflicted, but 
to imperfections which must victimize the heart and soul, 
flattering ourselves with a belief that love is the talismanic 
remedy that will cure the evil traits and passions deeply 
rooted in life. No ! She shall not become a victim to a 
like feeling — a mere passion, as Uncle Bob calls it, rob- 
bing us even of our slumber. Begone, you handsome fel- 
low, else I will hate you, instead of liking you. Do you 
hear ? v 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


91 


The threat must have frightened the vision, for it van- 
ished slowly, slowly. At last Helen fell into a sound 
slumber.. 


I 


92 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XYIII. 

The reader is aware that Van Alden is a handsome man. 
Of generous disposition, he is lavish to a fault, like many 
that are born with a silver spoon in their mouth. He is not 
only a universal favorite, a hail fellow with men, but is 
adored by tlie fair sex — and rightly so. The woman must 
be blind who could deny admiration to his stately figure, 
his fine features and expressive eyes. He is wonderfully 
fascinating. Wlierever he goes he takes his place in the 
foremost ranks. Life is with him a fairy tale, and the fairy 
land keeps him pretty close within its embrace. Generous 
as his impulses are, and with all his notions of honor and 
integrity he would not hesitate to trespass on both if they 
entailed on him a sacrifice to relinquish the pursuit of en- 
joyment. 

Had he been born under less auspicious circumstances ; 
had he been compelled to learn the many lessons of life; 
the needful renunciations, and the serious application of all 
his faculties to gain a sure footing, by which to climb safely 
toward the goal of noble aspirations ; undoubtedly, with the 
seeds kind Providence had implanted within him, he might 
have budded into a being that would have stamped him one 
of those noble men who bring so much lustre to their 
escutcheons. 

Without the guiding mind of loving parents who had 
left him but the vast accumulation of their industry and 
thrift, a power for evil in the hands of the young and in- 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


93 


experienced, they had afforded him a magic wand that he 
wielded for evil, that had subjected his mind to a disease 
which rarely yields to a radical cure; and to all appear- 
ances unfitted liim .to become the source from which Helen 
could derive happiness. 

Van Alden, after bidding the Judge ‘‘Good night,” 
sought the open air. 

Lime street could even at that late hour boast of many 
pedestrians. Some were hurrying towards a seeming des- 
tination. Others apparently just leaving the public houses, 
whose doors had been closed to them for the night, were in 
a less sound condition to journey onwards, because of the 
antics their tipsy state played them. 

A gentlemanly young fellow leaned against a wall in 
close proximity to our hero. Tlie only consciousness his 
drunken stupor had left him was the danger of striking the 
ground. 

Urchins, barefooted and in tatters, shouted at the top of 
their voices, “‘Echo,’ ‘Evening News,’ latest edition! 
Brutal murder of a woman by her drunken husband!” 
Others, “ Matches ! Only a penny a box ! Matches, 
sir!” 

Repulsive, besotted, abandoned women passing by, would 
stare into Van Alden’s face with admiring glances. 

A jauntily dressed girl, barely out of her teens, asked 
him the hour, smiling with her best. 

Drunken sailors, with their girls linked arm in arm, or 
with arms around their necks, were singing songs to which 
decency had better close its ears. 

The stalwart form of a bobby appearing and striking the 


94 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


curb with his bludgeon ; the noise would vibrate through 
the stillness of the night and give a warning sound to the 
late revelers and evil doers. 

The fresh air Van Alden liad souglit seemed to him im- 
pregnated with the venomous fumes from the scum of 
humanity. The impure sights seemed not to harmonize 
with his thoughts dwelling on that lovely girl, tlie walls of 
the Northwestern harbored, for he re-entered the hotel and 
sought his room. 

Until recently he had never given the future a serious 
thought. The future, as a matter of course, thought he, 
would be to him the same ds the past had been. 

Helen’s loveliness had been the incentive for his follow- 
ing her abroad. Having found her, the irresistible charm 
she had previously spread around him seemed enhanced. 

His mind had awakened to the positive fact, that he 
seriously contemplated a leap, the measurement of which 
he must calculate, and assure himself that he could under- 
take it with safety. And why not? he soliloquised ; I may 
as well follow the rest of mankind, and incorporate into the 
conjugal state. 

She is a most lovely being, well born, and worthy of be- 
coming my wife. The rest will follow. Herself? Why 
should she not be happy as my wife, sharing my wealth 
and position, and envied by her sex. 

1 can surely contribute largely to her happiness. Besides, 
she is quite as sensible as she is beautiful. 

’Tis true —he had long since thought it impossible to de- 
rive any satisfaction from matrimony. But — he had, as he 
now thought, never before met a Helen. Having met one, 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


95 • 

he felt sure that marital state with her would always leave 
on liis palate at least an inkling, and that is as much as any 
sensible pair could expect. 

Thus, Yan Alden reasoned with himself, and resolved to 
woo. He never doubted his ability to win her. 

Pleased with his resolution, he sought the rest he thought 
he was in need of. 

Slumber had scarcely overtaken him, when the door lead- 
ing from the adjoining room into his bed-chamber opened, 
and a man crept stealthily toward the bed, before which he 
remained motionless. 

The piercing dark eyes of this nocturnal visitor gazed on 
the sleeper with a woe be-gone look that gradually changed 
into an expression of hatred. 

The voice, which at first muttered curses between the 
compressed lips, suddenly shrieked into Yan Alden’s ear. 

Murderer ! foul murderer ! ” 

The startled sleeper opened his eyes, and beheld the threat- 
ening form. To his horror, he felt his faculties of motion 
and speech benumbed and paralyzed. He was unable to 
utter even a sound of alarm, although conscious of danger. 

The man’s appearance at night boded no good to him. 

Is that man an escaped lunatic ? His glaring eyes suggest 
it. He had called him a murderer. If, from a motive of 
imaginary wrong, he should wreak his vengeance on him, 
and kill him ! Terrible ! Him self-help less, and unable to 
ward off the blow that may send him into eternity ! Such 
were the thoughts that flashed through his mind. 

He could only gaze on that threatening figure with defi- 
ance, and helplessly await the worst. 


96 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


Suddenly, tlie man turned toward the door by which he 
had entered. At a given signal, men, clad in sombre gar- 
ments, entered, carrying a bier, upon wdiich a coffin rested. 
On reaching the centre of the room, they placed it on the 
floor. Then two stalwart men, with formidable axes, using 
them with terriflc force upon the tiles of the floor, made an 
aperture, into wdiich they lowered the coffin, amidst solemn, 
plaintive chants. Then they approached, in solemn man- 
ner, the bed upon which he rested. He felt their grasp, 
and noticed that they placed him upon the bier, and that 
they were carrying him in solemn procession from the room 
into the hall, down the stairway into the vestibule, which 
was thronged with the guests of the hotel, all gazing in awe 
at the unwonted sight. 

On the threshold of the hotel he beheld Helen. How 
lovely she looked — only that the expression of her face had 
changed from its usual joyousness to that of suflering. By 
her side stood a man. How strange! Not exactly like the 
terrible figure that had appeared only shortly before at his 
bedside — yet a familiar one — one he had met before, only 
somewhat changed. Yes, he remembers now, that figure 
once stood like now before a lovely being — Clare ! 

‘‘ Oh, my God I ” he muttered. Now he felt the night 
air, and it seemed that he was being carried through dimly- 
lighted streets. The footsteps of the cortege fell ominously 
on his ears, and the sound re-echoed through the deserted 
streets. On they marched without rest, until they entered 
within an iron gate that had opened by invisible hands. In' 
its inclosure white spectre-like shadows beckoned him wel- 
come. The men carrying him stopped suddenly before — 


VAN AI.DEN, JR. 


97 


Oil horror ! — an open grave lately dug, ready to entomb a 
body that, weary of the cares of life, had come to seek rest 
and shelter in its embrace. But he is alive ! ” 

An icy perspiration covered his body, that shook like an 
aspen leaf. A horror seized him on noticing the pre- 
parations, indicating their intention of burying him alive. 

Those fiends in human form will have no mercy on him ! 
He reads in their stern faces the terrible doom awaiting 
him. No help, no friend in this dire moment near him ! 
And he thought he had thousands ! 

He would pay his weight in gold if only one would come 
and loosen the fetters that held him to the bier. Alas ! no 
one can hear him, even if he were able to utter a sound. 

Presently two men approach him, and grasping him, 
count one, two, three,” and fling him into the grave. 

Striking the cold, damp ground, and the pain the fall 
produced, loosened the bane. With a piercing shriek of 
agony he awoke, and found the cortege, phantoms, grave, 
all had vanished, and himself snugly in bed — ascertaining, 
to his great relief, that he had only dreamed. 

A moment later, the night-watch, who had heard his 
shriek, knocked at the door, inquiring, ‘‘ Has anything hap- 
pened?” to which inquiry he answered in tlie negative. 

Yan Alden felt greatly perturbed. Although not of a 
superstitious turn of mind, the vividness of the dream had 
nevertheless filled liim with vague fears and misgivings, 
which he could not banish at will. After tossing restlessly 
about for a length of time, nature again exacted its tribute, 
and once more slumber overtook him. 


98 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

The morning after Helen’s visit to the opera, we find her 
seated at her writing Idesk, addressing Mrs. Loewenhaupt a 
letter, wherein she informs her of her own and Uncle Bob’s 
good health, and among other matters of having met Mr. 
Yan Alden abroad. ^^’Tis the gentleman I mentioned to 
you in my last letter from Morganville. I will keep my 
promise to you, and will henceforth send you reports of my 
travels and everything pertaining to myself.” 

Presently Judge Brown entered the room and greeting 
her in a fatherly manner, remarked how well pleased he 
was to see her look so bright and in such high spirits, after 
the previous day’s dissipation. 

My dear Helen,” he continued, taking a seat by her 
side ; you are aware that I treasure you in my heart as I 
would my own child, and that your happiness concerns me 
above all other things ; for the same promotes my own. 
My sincere wish is that you should yet remain free, for a 
time at least, from those serious demands life will make on 
you later. I need not tell you that the most endearing and 
ennobling tie of our early life is filial love. In later years 
is added the love of the husband, the father, the wife, and 
the mother. In these affections lie the whole of our happiness. 
If to the faithful performance of our duties toward mankind 
w^e add the essence of our worship of God. 

Providence has denied you the outpouring of filial 
affections, but there remains to you the happiness in the 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


99 


love of a wife and mother, if the Almighty shall vouchsafe 
as much to you. Your heart is tender, its feelings deep ; 
love will be the mainstay of your life, the foundation of 
your earthly happiness. If you bestow it upon one ^worthy 
and fitted to return to you as much as you give. 

I am aware that Mr. Van Alden admires you ; the blush 
upon your face assures me that you are not displeased at the 
knowledge. He spoke to me last night of his intention to 
visit you in Morganville, but the information that we had 
left on a foreign tour, led him to undertake the journey at 
once, in hopes of meeting us and joining us in our rambles. 

‘ <He belongs to one of the foremost families in New York 
and enjoys a princely income. As far as wordly and social 
advantages are concerned, he is a man whose honorable at- 
attentions the best woman in the land need not hesitate to 
receive. 

I am also aware of his reputation of being a gay society 
man ; a man of the world. That in itself would not speak 
less in his favor. Such men in their mature years often 
prove good husbands, provided the contact with all that life 
had offered them has not sucked from the root the healthy 
sap, leaving but a diseased trunk, with decayed branches, 
and fruit, from w^hich to partake, must sicken one, and pre- 
vent enjoying life’s more healthful nourishment. 

‘‘ My dear child,” he continued impressively, you must 
not open your heart too spontaneously to one whom your 
imagination only has chosen to touch its chords. It may at 
at first produce heavenly sounds, while reality later may 
produce discords galling upon your ears and mind, that 
may snap your tender life-strings in twain. 


ICO 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


‘‘ Mr. Van Alden has all the attributes to kindle the sus- 
ceptibility of your sex, and if he chooses, fan them into a 
flame that may consume their very reasoning power, and 
plunge them into a vortex, within which they may perisli. 

I am thankful to know^ that you are equipped with keen 
penetration into human nature, and with a goodly portion 
of common sense. Both will assist you greatly in the part 
you will take in life. I therefore look with equanimity on 
that handsome man’s endeavors to win you. If you And 
his heart and mind sound, and you should feel that you can 
trust your happiness in his safe keeping, I will rejoice on 
the day that will unite you with one who has then proven 
himself worthy of your love.” 

Helen had listened to the end without interruption. 

Deeply moved, she took the Judge’s hand into her own, 
and pressing it to her lips, said : 

“ I lost my dear parents ere I could realize the extent of 
fllial love. But Providence has blessed the orphan girl 
with your parental affection, and has in return concentrated 
on you, my dear uncle, all the filial love she could have felt 
for them had they lived. I have always held up to your 
gaze my innermost thoughts and feelings. As I have done 
hitherto, I shall do now, and hereafter. 

I am no more nor less like the many young girls,” she 
continued, foolish as they are called by the wdser heads, 
but who have thought and felt like ourselves. The wisdom 
they attained by experience qualifies them to become our 
advisers. We undoubtedly ought to listen to what they 
tell us ; only other more potent oracular voices whisper into 
our ears a language more akin to our youthful conception. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


lOI 


Wisdom, if it can be obtained, must/ be bought, even if 
we must pay dearly for it. Youth will dream and live in a 
dreamy land. Its sweet visions and recollections will afford 
us, in later years, a retrospect in what we loved to soar. 

Dear uncle,” she continued, with an archness, “ how can we 
young visionary beings look otherwise than with adoration 
upon one whom, as we are taught, God has created after 
his own image, and had destined to become our Lord and 
master upon earth, placing him before our imagination re- 
splendent in noble attributes, speaking to us the language 
of love, full of tenderness and affection.” 

If my Lord and master should have appeared to me in 
the disguise of the gentleman you spoke of now, and he is, 
as you have said, possessed of such magnetic power, how 
shall I evade my fate ? Can we control the loud pulsations 
of the heart, and command its silence, until our reason tells 
us tliat the man of our heart’s choosing has stood the tests 
caution impelled us to impose ? Must we really deaden our 
imagination because of a fear that same may bring disap ‘ 
pointment, grief — nay, misery even, and embody in our 
early lives the grave thoughts of a mature age. 

•‘Young nature,” she continued, thoughtfully, “ does it 
not surrender to the first warm glimpse of spring? If, 
later, an icy northerly destroys its early yield, it can only 
mourn the loss, but never blame itself for having yielded 
to the behest of a higher power. Thus it is with us when 
we yield our young hearts to the first warm rays of a mani- 
festating love. Only being superior to dumb nature, we 
are able to discern in our, what we believed spotless heaven, 
— ^first, ‘the impure specks as they appear; then the 


102 VAN AIvDEN, JR. 

dark growing clouds that are foreshadowing a coming 
tempest.’ ” 

This cautions us to seek a safe shelter from its devastating 
pathway, and having will power, we ought not neglect it, if 
the repose and the purity of our soul is of greater import 
to us than the impure cravings of the heart. As much as I 
would turn with dis^st and horror from a contagious or 
infectious garment, and would not suffer it to come near 
me, as much would I recoil from the touch of one if I be- 
came aware that his acts, principles, habits and thoughts are 
sordid. I would a thousand times rather crush my heart 
than surrender myself to one whom I could neither honor 
nor respect.” 

If you, dear uncle, call these ^ my thoughts and feel- 
ings,’ my common sense, then it is an article my sex can 
easily make themselves owners of ; and must make them- 
selves owners of, else suffer the penalty. If I should dream 
a romance, ^ a sensible one ’ — I could dream no other — the 
hero of which is to be Mr. Van Alden, and I must find a 
rude awakening, I hope that I will awake before the com- 
pletion of the last scene; should it come too late! Well, 
then I will have to submit to a fate for which I have been 
destined by a higher power.” 

Saying this, she gazed inquiringly at the Judge. 

He divined the meaning of her glance, and said, I am 
well pleased with the sentiment you expressed. It is what 
I expected of you.” 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


103 


CHAPTER XX. 

The outline of the metropolis of a mighty empire towered 
before Helen’s gaze, who, with, the Judge, Van Alden and 
Mrs. Betts, occupied a first-class compartment of the express 
approaching London. 

A mighty city that like no other one presents greater 
contrast and extremes of human life. Regents Park, and 
adjoining neighborhoods, the many thoroughfares in the 
West End, — a city of plenty. St. Giles, Wapping, and 
many more like them, the habitations of poverty ; 
where men and women live whose appearance are stripped 
of every lineament of humanity. Devils disguised in re- 
pulsive human form filling you with disgust and hurries your 
footsteps as you gaze at them. 

In London where, perhaps, fifty thousand live in luxury, 
which our most vivid imagination even could not contem- 
plate ; there are living twice that number who do not 
know when they rise in the morning where they will lay 
their heads at night. 

Williston Junction passed, the express soon reached its 
final stopping place. 

On Helen’s alighting, assisted by Yan Alden (the Judge 
and Mrs. Betts following), a gentleman and lady (apparently 
awaiting our travelers) approached them. 

The gentleman, lifting his hat politely and addressing the 
Judge, asked: have I the pleasure of addressing Judge 
Brown. 


104 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


Receiving a reply in the affirmative, he introduced himself 
and lady as the Hon. Mr. and Miss Lansing, and that they 
came to offer them their mother’s (dowager Lady Darvy’s) 
hospitality pending their stay in London. 

The Judge, in behalf of himself and Helen, thankfully 
declined, accepting, however, the offer of their carriage. 
Miss Lansing, Helen, the Judge and Mrs. Betts entered the 
handsome equipage. 

Mr. Lansing and Van Alden having attended to the 
baggage, strolled leisurely from the station. 

Ethel Lansing is one of the well-known type of English 
girls, of which many belong to the higher classes and walks 
of life. She is of good figure — full and rounded, giving 
her a womanish appearance, which you would not expect 
from her years, although she looks younger than she actually 
is. Her complexion is fair, with blue eyes, golden, more 
flaxen-like, hair, which glitters in tlie sunshine ; rosy lips, 
that would tempt you to steal from them a kiss. 

Although she looked truly feminine, of seeming gentle 
disposition, yet, those who knew her intimately, are aware 
of her seasons of temper, the climax of which are often 
appalling. The bark of her existence is often tossed by 
such tempests. She is clever, and can display some accom- 
plishments. She sings beautifully, paints with a degree of 
taste, and has a remarkable aptitude of acquiring knowledge 
of all kinds. She is a first-rate equestrienne, a good dancer, 
and also fond of all sorts of feminine gaities. Her affec- 
tions are such, she could love many, no particular kind, 
but could love one person better than the other.” 

As the honorable Miss Lansing plays but a minor part in 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 105 

this narrative, I have sufficiently described her for the pur- 
pose. 

On their arrival at the Metropole, and after receiving 
Helen’s promise to be ready on the following day, at the 
hour named, for the contemplated visit and introduction to 
her mother, Ethel Lansing took her departure. 

Our travelers were soon comfortably installed in their 
respective apartments, where we will leave them for the 
present, and return to Van Alden, who, as we are aware, 
had left St. Pancras station, in company with Mr. Lansing. 

The honorable Archibald Lansing is a man about thirty 
years of age, tall, of a florid complexion. He is the second 
son of the late Lord Harvey, whose family name was Lan- 
sing ere he succeeded to the title and rent-roll of his de- 
ceased cousin. Lord Maurice Harvey. 

Archibald Lansing is not a handsome man, but suffi- 
ciently good-looking to find favor with the fair sex. He is 
jovial, has ingratiating manners. He is frank, good-hearted, 
but an unprincipled, fashionable roue. Besides a legacy his 
father had left him, he had inherited an annual income of 
about £2,000 from his maiden aunt, his mother’s sister. 
Lansing and Van Alden had met eight years ago in Paris 
and London, and are not strangers to each other. 

Lansing had not recognized the youth he met years ago, 
nor had Van Alden recognized Lansing — the full beard dis- 
guising, somewhat, his youthful looks. 

“ My dear boy,” said Lansing to Van Alden, ‘‘you have 
grown a capital-looking fellow since we last met. ’Tis bad 
taste for a man to pay another a compliment — but, by jovel 
The truth is the truth. I will stick to you if only for the 


io6 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


fun of seeing our girls goggle at you. Are you going to 
stop at the Metropole ? ” he continued. I believe you are 
love-struck. ’Pon honor, I won’t try to cut you out ; 
deuced little chance I would stand against you. She is a 
fine girl ! Where did you meet her — on her travels ? ” 
were the questions following each other in rapid succession. 

Van Alden, amused at his friend’s eagerness for inform- 
ation concerning Helen, replied : Miss Powell, undoubt- 
edly, would feel highly fiattered were she aware of the 
impression she has made on the first gentleman she had the 
pleasure of meeting in London. The more so, if she knew, 
as I know of old, what a renowned connoisseur of feminine 
loveliness you are. The lady is an acquaintance whom I 
met in the States. As open confession is said to be good 
for the soul,” he continued, with a merry twinkle in his 
eyes, ‘‘ 1 will appoint you my father confessor, and acknowl- 
edge that you hit the nail on the head by implying -that I 
am love-struck. I need not remind you, my dear fellow, of 
the sacredness of the confessional.” 

‘‘How is life in London?” Van Alden now asked, 
endeavoring thereby to change the subject. “ I presume it 
is the gay old place it used to be. I will be in need of 
some one to show me the sights. I have no doubt but that 
you are a shining light, that can illuminate the paths of 
pleasure.” 

“How long do you intend remaining in London?” 
inquired Lansing. 

“ Four weeks at the most,” replied Van Alden. 

“ The Judge and Miss Powell will leave for Scotland in 
a fortnight. Two weeks later I will join them in Perth. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


107 


From there we will make a tour through France, Italy, 
Switzerland and Germany, returning again to London. 
Such is our project at present. Pending Miss Powell’s 
sojourn in London, my time will be at her disposal. After 
she leaves, you must take me in hand. By the way,” he 
added, “ Miss Powell desires to see the sights of London — 
sights of interest, in general.” 

Make use of me,” rejoined Lansing. will be at 
your service whenever you desire it. Mother will be very 
sorry,” he continued, ‘^that the Judge has declined her hos- 
pitalit3\ Fred wrote to her, a few days ago, mentioning 
the Judge’s, Miss Powell’s, and your presence in Liverpool, 
and wired her this morning, naming the hour you would 
arrive. She will expect you, Frank, at the house very 
often.” 

‘^I will not fail to make use of her kind invitation,” 
rejoined Van Alden. 

They had now approached Pond’s and Spier’s.” En- 
tering, they partook of some iced claret, continuing their 
conversation for a time. 

On separating. Van Alden, hailing a passing hansom, was 
driven to the Metropole. 


io8 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXL 

It was the evening of their first day in London. Helen 
had declined Van Alden’s invitation to the Lyceum, saying : 

I would prefer a stroll in the fresh air.’’ 

Sauntering, along the Strand, a thoroughfare usually 
thronged with pedestrians at that hour, some, hurrying to- 
wards the places of amusement, so numerous in the neighbor- 
hood ; others merely walking to and fro, adding thereby to 
the animation of the scene, Helen, addressing Van Alden, 
said : ‘‘ It is my serious intention to hold you to your 

promise. I desire to acquaint myself with the phases of 
London life, so graphically described ; at least with such as 
are not offensive to womanliness. I am not traveling 
merely for pleasure, but also to gain information upon 
matters of interest. I will give you a proof of the esteem 
in which I hold you, .by trusting entirely to your discretion 
as a guide,” she added, looking at him with a blush on her 
lovely face. 

It will afford me great pleasure if I acquit myself to 
your satisfaction of the trust imposed, and I will endeavor 
to acquaint you with such phases of London life as will in- 
terest you most, the social ones excepted, for they will be 
brought to your notice through other channels. You will 
find that society here is more or less the same as elsewhere, 
differing only in national characteristic, though the pleasures 
are enhanced by the great wealth of the city,” rejoined 
Van Alden. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


109 


They liad now approached the Strand Theatre. Flaming 
placards heralding the play ‘^Camille’’ attracted their at- 
tention. 

Van Alden cast a furtive glance at his lovely companion. 

Helen thouglit she interpreted its meaning, and address- 
ing him, said : That play recalls our conversation at 

the opera in Liverpool. You asked my opinion regard- 
ing the characters of Dumas’ play. I may as well tell you 
now.” 

Men and women,” she continued, may with impunity 
tear down the barrier that caste and wealth forces upon 
them in the choice of their affections, pi'ovided they are 
worthily bestowed. Had Armand, of noble birth, learned 
to love the mind, beauty and grace with which the author, 
for a purpose so charmingly, but fictitiously, endowed 
Camille, not as yet contaminated and not out of the pale of 
decent society, his love could have been approved and 
would have seemed natural. Under existing circumstances 
it was but an illusion ; although the author by elaborate 
diction tries to impress us differently.” Then, adding with 
great earnestness, a man owes it to his honor, name and 
self respect to stifie an unholy love that must ultimately 
lead him into an abyss wherein he must bury all that is 
worth living for. I might exonerate a man who, spell- 
bound by the infiuence of a siren, and because of the fetters 
with which she holds him bound to her, forgets his own 
better self, but if once freed from the spell, and by her 
own free will at that, he should thank Providence for the 
release from the thralldom. Armand follows Camille, 
knowing her faithless, to take an unmanly vengeance! Do 


no VAN AIvDEN, JR. 

you not think. Mr. Van Alden, that such a man deserves to 
be despised ? ” 

Van Alden, astonished at the intensity witli which she 
had revealed her Sentiment, looked thoughtful, and then re- 
plied : “ You forget. Miss Powell, that Arrnand believed in 
the purity of her love for him, in the contrition for her past 
life, but finds her faithless.” 

‘‘Would the knowledge of this justify the act — finding 
her in the midst of sin from whence he had taken her to 
treasure her in his heart?” asked Helen. “I understand 
your chivalrous endeavor to defend an absent culprit, but I 
do not think you serious, Mr. Van Alden, and therefore 
my judgment must stand.” 

Van Alden, amused at the arch expression on her face, 
said, laughingly: “The culprit’s case is lost, after your 
forcible arraignment of his guilt; I am ashamed at my 
attempt to mislead your judgment. I must apologize,” he 
continued, “for having at one time implied a partiality, 
should you be called upon to sit in judgment on your sex. 
Indeed, Miss Powell, you have shown yourself more severe 
towards Camille than I thought you would.” 

“You err, Mr. Van Alden,” rejoined Helen, “I pity 
Camille, and had she been a living being, and within my 
reach, I would willingly have helped her to a better life ; 
and if she had made an honest attempt in that direction, I 
would have thought well of her. Had I been the author,” 
she continued, naively, “Camille would have disappeared 
by voluntary exile, leaving to Arrnand no trace of herself. 
He would soon have forgotten her,” she added with a smile. 
“ I would rather have had her seek death than return to a 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


Ill 


life she detested, and returning to it for the purpose that 
her lover may despise hert So unnatural for a woman, be 
she even of the lowest. With a Camille, beautiful, with 
noble sentiments, capable of an honest love, returning to 
her former life, I can have no sympathy. I spoke to you 
candidly on a subject, Mr. Van Alden, on which you re- 
quested my opinion. I could only have spoken to a friend 
in the manner I did. As you have revealed your manly 
sentiments for me, and I felt no displeasure at your having 
said that much, I have in return apprised you of some of 
my innermost thoughts. “Later,” she continued, with a 
blush mantling her cheeks, “I may be able to apprise you 
of the language of the innermost recesses of my heart.” 

“ If language is given to conceal one’s thoughts, I feel 
thankful that you did not deem it necessary to adhere to 
that at times — wise proverb in the present instance. I am 
happy beyond measure to know that you deem me worthy 
of your innermost thoughts. I must content myself with 
that much for the present, and fondly hope that you will 
be able to confer on me the greater happiness later,” re- 
joined Van Alden, gazing lovingly into her face. 

They had now reached the “Metropole.” Entering they 
were joined by the Judge, who had awaited their return. 

Later in the evening our travelers were driven through 
the popular and brilliantly-lighted thoroughfares, the 
throngs presenting to Helen’s gaze tlie life and bustle, such 
as* only the streets of London can boast. 


II2 


VAN ALDEN, JR, 


CHAPTER XXII. 

The following day, at the appointed hour, Helen, the 
Judge and Ethel Lansing alighted from a handsome equi- 
page before a stately mansion. Entering its portals, they 
were received by the dowager. Lady Darvey, a ruddy, eld- 
erly lady, full of urbanity and good breeding. 

I am glad to meet you,” she said pleasantly, addressing 
the Judge and Helen. I am sony you declined my prof- 
fered hospitality pending your sojourn in the city. ’Tis 
the inheritance of my young days to be fond of company, 
and would have been pleased had you decided to stay 
with us.” 

It was a stately room which our party entered. Its decor- 
ations were vast and magnificent. 

Van Alden and Lansing had joined them, and they were 
soon engaged in a general conversation. 

Helen, replying to the hostess’ question as to the impres- 
sion England had so far made on her, said how delighted 
she felt having visited the British Isle; how she looked 
with wonder at the height it had advanced to, a height un- 
equaled in the history of the world. How her thoughts 
had reverted to its history of these many, many centuries. 
Now an empire, the first nation on earth. How happy she 
is to be able to tread such ground ; the cradle df liberty for 
the body, mind and conscience ; the mother country of her 
own glorious one, kindred in spirit, religion and speech. 

“ Indeed, Miss Powell,” rejoined Archibald Lansing, as 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


113 

an Englishman, I wish that every American would feel and 
think like yourself. No doubt many do,” he continued, “ at 
least those who are bred from our bone. It is a shame that 
sordid, political or mercenary motives should engender an 
unfriendly feeling in the States toward us.” 

“If such a feeling exists,” said Van Alden, joining in 
the conversation, “ it exists only amongst those who are 
easily prejudiced by the harangue of wily politicians, as- 
sisted by a subsidized press, seeking only selfish ends.” 

“’Tis natural,” he continued, “that the body politic and 
State should, and they must, uphold such political and^om- 
mercial advantages as will enhance the interest and welfare 
of the nation. These interests may often clash with the in- 
terests of those with whom we live in friendly relationship ; 
but good sense and real friendly feeling must then find an 
honorable way of adjustment. 

“It would be a sorry day, a misfortune to mankind,” 
continued Van Alden, earnestly, “if two kindred nations, 
representing the bulwark of liberty and enlightenment, 
should engage in cutting each other’s throats for the gratifi- 
cation of interested spectators, who would only make capi- 
tal out of it, and that could bode no good to mankind in 
general. If the errors of a government forced our fore- 
fathers, in self preservation, to shed the blood of kindred, 
this enlightened generation must not be guilty of a like 
error, but should crush at once a party that tries to under- 
mine our amicable and peaceful relations.” 

“ Hear ! hear ! ” exclaimed Lady Darvey, with enthusi- 
asm. “ These sentiments would do both nations honor to 
cultivate and act upon. Some of my own kin,” she con- 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


114 

tinned, ‘‘ a century and a half ago left for your shores and 
amalgamated with its blood. My son’s first choice was a 
bonnie American lass, as noble a one as ever took pure 
breath; thus renewing a relationship of which I feel justly 
proud. Poor girl,” she added in a sad tone, tears moisten- 
ing her eyes, I can never efface her image from my mem- 
ory. My dear girls,” she now said, addressing Helen and 
Ethel, it is pleasant to sit here and chat, but the time 
draws nigh for our contemplated drive. His Po)"al High- 
ness, by command of our gracious Queen, holds today a 
levee, and, as it may interest you to gaze at the throng of 
equipages and their occupants, we had better get ready. 

^^At the next levee. Miss Powell, should you remain in 
London till then, you shall be a debutante under my cha- 
peronage,” added the hostess pleasantly. 

Half an hour later, the dowager, the Judge, Helen and 
Ethel were driving toward Hyde Park. 

Yan Alden and Lansing followed on horseback. 

The weather was perfectly charming. Horse-chestnuts, 
laburniums, hawthorns, lilacs, Avere all in the most luxuri- 
ant bloom. 

The whole neighborhood of Hyde Park is a succession Of 
elegant houses. The avenues through which they drove 
were resplendent Avith elegant equipages and the pathways 
thronged with pedestrians, seemingly the well-to-do and 
artisan classes. The ladies in the carriages and on foot, 
with some exceptions, simply but tastefully dressed. 

Helen thought she had never seen so many lovely girls 
and handsome women at one time, and beauty did not seem 
to belong only to the privileged classes. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


115 

I am delighted with the drive, and with what I have 
seen,” remarked Helen to Ethel. I could feast my eyes 
on such lovely and animated sights. I am not of an envi- 
ous disposition, but, really, I could envy the inhabitants of 
London, for the daily pleasure at their command. I do not 
believe that one could ever tire of such scenes.” 

‘‘ Not if they were as enthusiastic as you are. Miss Pow- 
ell,” rejoined Ethel, with a smile. We stay here through- 
out the season to enjoy other pleasures than the grating 
sounds of carriage wheels, that make us drowsy, unless we 
are fortunate in having pleasant company, such as yourself.” 

The throngs of people,” she continued, well, or indif- 
ferently dressed, seeking exercise in the pure air of the 
park, could attract me, if I could walk in the grounds, and 
flirt with some handsome fellow ; meet there some jolly 
friends, girls and young men, like other girls, and have a 
jolly good time of it.” 

Mamma?” she said, answering Helen’s signiflcant look, 
“ Oh ! she wouldn’t mind. Mother knows that it could do 
me no harm — rather more good, than the heated atmosphere 
of a crowded ball-room, coming home in the early morning, 
tired in body and mind, and were I asked, what pleasure I 
had derived, I could only truthfully answer. Very little, or 
none at all. I was the target of sedate matrons and old 
maids, or of some young ladies receiving less attention, 
because I felt pleased to dance with one gentleman three 
dances, or promenaded with one more than once, or because 
I took more interest in the conversation of an intellectual 
man. These gossiping tongues,” she continued, disdain- 
fully, ‘^will whisper into one another’s ears, and in a 


ii6 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


manner that others should hear. Look at Ethel Lansing 
coquetting with Lord B. ! She must be silly to think he 
would have her.’’ 

And yet you say that you live during the season in 
London, to enjoy its pleasures,” remarked Helen. 

When we are in Rome, we must do as the Romans do,” 
replied Ethel, with a smile. Society, unless we desire to 
be out of it, imposes on us duties from which we cannot 
escape, be they even irksome. I could enjoy it for many 
reasons, if custom would not insist on converting our nights 
into days, and abjure all that is natural. If we could feel 
at ease in our social intercourse, and not appear like pickled 
herrings, tightly encased in uncomfortable dresses, laced 
like lunatics in straight jackets, and wincing under the tor- 
ture, because of the mandates of fashion. There is more 
sense in our village maidens, in their comfortable fitting 
shoes, loose bodices, short dress, and in their rustic admirers, 
freed from the coat, neck freed, enjoying their dance, 
making at the end of each a sortie for fresh air to invig- 
orate their lungs for shouts of real joy, because of the pleas- 
ure derived.” 

Would you then abolish entirely the present customs of 
society ? ” asked Helen, archly. The art of trimming 
skillfully the indifferent nature of your less fortunate sis- 
ters, who would quail the more under the critical inspection 
of our fastidious ball-room heroes, and suffer a consequential 
greater neglect from them. Consider your by nature indif- 
ferently endowed sisters, filed in ranks, with hearts throb- 
bing in anticipation of having their programmes dotted 
with only a few names, of even the lesser shining lights of 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


117 

the fraternity, called ‘gentleman,’ who, believing in the 
proverb, ‘handsome is, as handsome does,’ and would like 
to have it said of themselves, fail to act on that truly honest 
proverb toward their sisters ; treating them shabbily, ungen- 
tlemanly, because nature has not been more generous 
towards them than to themselves.” 

“Yes, Miss Lansing,” continued Helen, with a smile, 
“you must consider, and weigh well, what I have said; 
and, if you have a sympathetic heart, you will rather suffer 
a little inconvenience than agitate a departure from custom 
that must cause still greater suffering among your less- 
favored sisters.” 

“Why, Helen!” exclaimed the Judge, who had joined 
in the merriment Helen’s remarks had occasioned. “ To 
my recollection, you always advocated the sentiments Miss 
Lansing expressed. I am afraid that, seeing the world, has 
made you worldly. Take care ! Else I will bring back to 
the States a ‘ society lady ’ instead of the ‘ rustic ’ country 
girl you were on leaving.” 

“ You have but a man’s diplomacy. Uncle — not a par- 
ticle of woman’s,” rejoined Helen, in a mirthful tone. 
“ Finding my pet theory, with which I intended revolu- 
tionizing society, shared by Miss Lansing, I had to argue 
against her, as I am too selfish to share the glory it must 
bring with others.” The carriage and the two gentleman 
riders now passed through Pall Mall, Waterloo place, 
and other handsome thoroughfares. Crowds of people, 
of horsemen, carriages of all kinds, surged to and fro. 

Half an hour later, our party re-entered the portals of 
the dowager’s mansion. 


ii8 


VAN ALDEN, JR, 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

Helen was seated in her room, engaged in writing 'to 
Mrs. Loewenhaupt, as she had promised, some of the most 
important events of her journey. 

Yes, my dear friend, she wrote, my travels thus far have 
been a source of great pleasure, from which I have derived 
much useful information. All my vague ideas of real life, the 
world and mankind, are now shaping themselves more dis- 
tinctly to my mind. I find that the books, from which I 
derived my first conceptions, came only in some instances 
near the truth, and that the authors have used their pens 
more to please the imagination than with an object to 
initiate the reader into real life, and with human nature. 

First of all, you, who has been to me like a loving 
mother, must be made aware of the import that has 
approached my near future life. In a previous letter I 
informed you that Mr. Yan Alden sought us abroad, and 
that I did not feel displeased because of the interest he had 
thereby demonstrated in my behalf. I suppose it is natural 
to feel a gratification at the knowledge that we have created 
an interest in those for whom we entertain a similar feeling. 
Since I wrote my last, Mr. Yan Alden has spoken to me of 
a more tender feeling, and requested my permitting his 
endeavor to kindle within me a like one in return — if he 
is not wholly indifferent to me, I had to grant the gen- 
tleman’s reasonable manly request, as I could not tell him^ 
at least not honestly, that I felt indifferent towards him. 


VAN AI.Di>t/jR. 1 19 

This must acquaint you with the fact that the gentle- 
man has gained a hold upon my feelings, which, if it is not 
one of love in the true sense, is at least a kindred senti- 
ment, which, as you once expressed it, ^ first buds, to ripen 
under more potent rays (that are urging themselves into 
our Iieart) into a fiower whose fragrance impregnates our 
existence and sweetens the atmosphere we breathe and 
live in.’ 

I felt pleased at the manner in which Mr. Yan Alden 
spoke to me of Jiis sentiments; the more so than if he had 
declared his ardent love in a kneeling posture, so potent to 
touch the susceptibility pf a romantic maiden. A love in 
which, under circumstances, I would have trusted less, for 
it would have seemed to me akin to a placid stream, swelled 
by a sudden tempest into a torrent, which, after its fury is 
expended, returns to its former placid state. I remember 
the adage, ‘ Love me little, love me long.’ I believe Mr. 
Yan Alden’s sentiment to have some depth ; otherwise the 
proud man he seems to me would hardly have declared an 
affection for me, who gave him no other encouragent than 
a friendly appreciation, because of his gentlemanly atten- 
tion to her. 

’T is for this reason that I am willing to treasure within 
my heart a feeling toward one whom I believe worthy of 
the love and affection it could yield. You, my dear teacher 
and more than friend, who has guided my early life, who 
has spoken to me of the joys, sorrows and duties that fill 
a woman’s existence, can divine my sentiments, because of 
the knowledge of my approaching a woman’s destiny. JVTy 
thoughts are indeed serene ; I have no doubt but that I will 


120 


VAJsx-AIvDEN, JR. 


do justice to all the duties a^wai ting me — duties of which a 
woman acquits herself joyfully for one wdio becomes to her 
all that is dear to her in life. To some misgivings and 
vague thoughts, which the mind is not always able to throw 
off at will, I recall your injVinction : ‘ Be true to yourself, 
and when clouds come to dyarken some hours of your life, 
the sunshine in your hearty, and (I myself will add), the 
knowledge of duties honestly fulfilled, will assist me to dis- 
pel them.’ Therefore, I willj no longer try to withstand the 
magnetism of such a brilliant orb, willing to shelter me 
under its life-giving rays. 

And now, my dear friend', I will turn to other topics. 
First, to London. I had expressed to Mr. Van Alden a de- 
sire to acquaint myself with tl^e different phases of London 
life. He obtained through the influence of the Hon. Archi- 
bald Lansing (brother to Lord Darvey, of whom I have 
previously written), a guide, in the person of a constable 
in civil attire. We journeyed through London, visiting 
the neighborhoods of the poor. Neighborhoods of wretched- 
ness and poverty, such, as I have been told, no other city 
of civilization harbors. Streets crowded with well-dressed 
people, equally thronged wflth crowds of ill-clad, dirty ones. 
My mind is fllled with but one thought; I can entertain no 
other. It is that of the most inexpressible wretchedness of 
the many thousands. Mr. Todd (the constable) told us 
‘Hhat these people are looked upon as if they were wild 
animals, which, if not restrained, would devour and destroy 
on every side, and that they would be justifled, because of 
a wrong civilization inflicts upon them in an epoch for vast 
accumulation of wealth to the few and poverty and wretched- 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


I2I 


ness to the masses.” Pointing to a narrow lane that was 
swarming with women and children, ragged and dirty 
enough to merit a pretty strong description, he said: 

Civilization dwells near by, passes to and fro. Does it 
try to better the condition of these wretches? I am only a 
constable. ’T is but a scanty support to me and my family 
with the pay I receive, and, therefore, I must shut my eyes 
to my feeling — that is one of humanity. I wish well to 
my fellow creatures. I would like to see them all hax3py ; 
yet, as I traverse the streets, what do I see ! Wretchedness ! 
And I must exclaim : Is it decreed that all these people 
must perish ! It is not enough that I must see penury, 
pain, starvation, disease, hut also crime in its worst form ! 
The drunkard reels out of tlie public house ; the brazen 
wanton walks into it, soon to reel herself into the guttej*, 
and I cannot close the doors that are inviting them to 
deaden the last spark of humanity, if there is one left. The 
only mercy it brings them is drowning their misery for the 
time being. What can I do,” continued Mr. Todd, mourn- 
fully, (denoting the man of feeling), the voice of all those 
wretched, mute petitioners in every street reaches my ear, 
and I am forced to keep it closed, for I have nothing to be 
charitable with. I have the will, without the power of 
doing good. At nights, when I am abroad in the streets, 
my heart is sore from seeing things which make me sadder 
than I was in the morning ; but I must harden my heart 
and learn to be callous.” 

My dear friend ! Volumes would not adequately describe 
the sad picture this city, the emporium of the world’s com- 
merce and wealth, brings to the surface ; the undeserved 


122 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


destitution its boundary harbors. Mr. Todd advised us not 
to notice the barefooted children, women and men. If we 
felt charitably inclined, he would afford us the opportunity 
of bestowing charity upon some deserving ones who are in 
want, and would ask no alms. I am now familiar with 
sights, the impression of which can never become effaced 
from memory. The knowledge of such misery should 
reconcile us fortunate ones to the mishaps that may be 
allotted to us. 

I omitted to mention that on our arrival here we were 
met at the depot by the Hon. Mr. Lansing, brother of Lord 
Darvey, and his sister Ethel, who offered us their mother’s 
hospitality. Dear Uncle preferred stopping at the Metro- 
pole. We have since called on them several times, and 
have met there some charming people. I attended, in their 
company, a soiree, given by the Duchess of M . 

First of all, I must speak of the Dowager, Lady Darvey, 
who, as I have been told, is a perfect type of an aristocratic 
lady of the old school, such as we often read about. What 
a wonderful cheerfulness and vivacity I noticed in her ! 
Not the result of an e^ort, but evidently inherent. Her 
conversation, like her spirits, never flagged ; she deals with 
many topics, and seems to possess a memory of uncommon 
tenacity, for she relates anecdotes, by the dozen, of almost 
everybody one has heard of. Everything she touches, how- 
ever trivial and uninteresting in other hands, she shows a 
mastership in handling. 

Miss Lansing, her daughter, is a charming young woman 
of about twenty-three years, very much admired, 1 am told. 
The indulgence she must have received from childhood 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


123 


made lier the willful, impulsive, yet good-hearted woman 
she seems. The spoiled cliild of fortune has already spent its 
treasures of en joyments, and finds it now difficult to dip con- 
tent from what there is left for hei*. I am told tliat she had 
bestowed her affections upon a gentleman, deserving of her 
in every way, but wanting in fortune, and because she 
would not brave life in a cottage, instead of a palace, to 
which she was accustomed, refused him. Now she has no 
affection to bestow. A rumor whispers that she will marry 

Lord R , a gentleman of a large rent roll. I met him, 

and have also heard him spoken of. I assure you, dear 
friend, I would rather earn my daily bread than own him. 

Mr. Lansing, her brother, is the embodiment of gentle- 
manly courtesy, jovial and very good company ; that is 
about all I know of him. 

You have now the descriptions of those I met on more 
intimate terms, and 1 will now speak of a dinner and soiree 
to which we were invited. The j)eople I met there are 
supposed to be the creme de la creme ” of London society. 
The Duchess’ house is the rendevous of all the fashionable 
gay spirits. Of her, I must say she is an uncommonly fine- 
looking lady, about thirty-six years of age. She is said to 
be fabulously rich. The dinner lasted until nearly ten 
■ o’clock. I am not able to judge the cost per head. My 
mind reverted to the poverty and wretchedness, perhaps 
not far from her mansion. The dinner service ot silver, 
and dishes in countless succession. The furniture in the 
room, antique, resplendent with silk and tapestry, and 
trimmed with gold. 

The entrance into the ball-room apprised me again of her 


124 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


wealth ; tlie interior appearing to me inipressibly grand. I 
must forbear a description. The effort would only show 
my inability. All I will say is that I had the pleasure and 
gratification of seeing how wealth could be lavishly used in 
harmony with exquisite taste. The concert over, tables 
were again spread with the choicest dainties London can 
afford, and the manner in which they were presented to our 
view, and the material with which they were covered, made 
the scene one of enchantment. We came home after two 
o’clock. 

I am glad, dear friend, because of an evening spent in a 
social sphere of which I have heard and read so much. 
But you may rest assured that your country girl” remains 
undazzled by the glare of aristocratic life ; a life of which 
you so often spoke to me, and in which you found so little 
happiness. Some of the glimpses obtained disenchants the 
spell of many others. 

Today I remained quietly at home, and, as you will per- 
ceive, have devoted my time penning you this letter. Mr. 
Van Alden wishes me to remember him kindly to you. 
He is a dear good fellow, so attentive and full of considera- 
tion for my slightest wishes. And now, my dear friend, I 
will close this lengthy epistle with the assurance of my 
most sincere affection. Your 

Helen. 

P. S. — Next week we leave for Scotland. I will write to 
you again from Edinburgh. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


125 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

A pang had touched Reuben Van Alden’s heart when he 
heard of Clare’s death. Not from remorse, because of the 
voluntary part he had taken in this unfortunate affair, as he 
called it. He thought he had but done his duty, and what 
was right in the premises. But he regretted his hastiness, 
and honestly wished that he had not judged so harshly. He 
now understood that Clare had been but a victim to her 
passionate, but truthful love, and that she had deceived her 
father from a sense of shame, so natural to a child. What 
was he to do now ? He must go to N. again, and try 
what arrangements he could make, in behalf of that blind, 
helpless man, and the child. He could not go just now, 
because of a slight attack of gout. 

A few days later, he took the boat for N. On his 
arrival at the cottage he learned from the servants in charge 
that Mr. Gray and the child had left, in company of a 
friend. Then, handing to the old gentleman a small casket 
and an envelope, containing "the key to the former, said : 

Mr. Gray left these to be delivered to you.” 

As to the whereabouts of Mr. Gray and the child, the 
servant could give no information. 

On Reuben Van Alden’s arrival at home, he opened the 
casket. It contained the title deed for Villa Gray ” and 
other gifts from Frank to Clare. The fact of this apprised 
the old gentleman that every advance on his part to 
befriend Mr. Gray would be met by the latter with disdain. 


126 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


For the first time in his life he felt that he had made 
himself guilty of an act that placed him before a human 
being in an unfavorable, even hatefal, light. Justly so, he 
thought. Yet he would gladly befriend that poor, grief- 
stricken father. 

Kinging the bell, and a servant entering, he ordered him 
to send a messenger for Mr. Snelling, the head of a private 
detective agency. 

On the latter’s arrival, the old gentleman explained the 
interest he had taken in Mr. Gray and his grandchild, both 
having resided, until recently, in N. That they had 
left their abode, leaving no trace of their present where- 
abouts, and instructed the detective to leave nothing un- 
done to find them, without their becoming aware of his 
endeavors. 

The detective received the necessary information and 
instructions, jotting down elaborate memoranda. 

The old aristocrat now seated himself before his writing- ■ 
desk for the purpose of penning a letter to Frank. 

He had barely written a few lines, wlien, ceasing sud- 
denly, he tore them into fragments, muttering : No ! I 
will not write ! I have no doubt but what Frank merely 
acquiesced to the deception. I shall not be the harbinger 
of news that will inform him of liis victim’s death. It is 
done, and there is no help for it! Frank must square it 
with his conscience ! No use ray upbraiding him ! ” solil- 
oquized he. 

‘‘ The world is relentless to some and merciful to others,” 
he mused. We all must take our share of what it brings, 
and must not shrink from duties imposed on us, because we 


VAN ALDRN, JR. 


127 


may thereby inflict pain on those who are blocking our 
paths. We must check the flow of bleeding hearts, if we 
can, and, if we do not, thereby open our own veins. I am 
willing to befriend that old man, so far as it lies in my 
power, and am ready to provide for the child ; but I will 
not smite my own blood because it generated some impure 
drops. 

Thus the aristocrat’s conscience and character again com- 
pounded matters amicably. He felt satisfled that he had 
acted in the matter as his duty bade him. 

An hour later he wended his way towards the Counting 
House to add, by his ingenuity, to the strength and lustre 
of the edifice. 


128 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Martini, the blind artist, and Flora were met on their 
arrival in New York from N. by a friend, with whom Martini 
had arranged for a temporary abode. 

Mrs. Somers received them cordially, her manner denot- 
ing a genuine sympathy for the bereaved father and child ^ 

Tenderly embracing little Flora, she brought her into the 
presence of her own dear little ones. They soon succeeded 
in interesting the child, who could not as yet realize the loss 
it had sustained. 

The sculptor and the blind artist had withdrawn to their 
adjoining apartments. 

My dear friend,” said Martini, in a tender voice, you 
must not succumb to despair. If you cannot transfer to 
me a duty, you say you owe to yourself ; you must shake 
off the apathy that has taken possession of you. You know 
that my nature is soft. The passions swaying the human 
soul, I have learned to subdue. The fiery thirst to avenge 
her wrong, I must quench, because of the knowledge of 
your prior right. 1 know that the dumb brute even, with 
its animal instinct, will avenge itself upon the slayer of 
its offspring, and will turn mercilessly on its superior in 
strength to engage in an uneven combat, in which it is 
ready to sacrifice its life upon the altar of its brute affec- 
tions. 

“ Oh, my friend,” he continued, vehemently, “ how I 
feel for, and with you. The chords of my heart feel every 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


129 


touch that your body, bent in grief, and your helplessness, 
makes upon them. Let me once more beseech you to 
transfer to me the duty of revenge ! You only to gloat 
in the knowledge that you will be avenged, terribly 
avenged, upon the slayer of your child ! My hands are 
surer, my eyes intact, and my right — can you question my 
right? You, the only living being, whom I permitted to 
gaze into my heart and soul, must be aware of the love I 
bore Clare. If tliere is idolatry in a heart, it was in mine. 
The waters of the universe could not have quenched my 
love, nor flooded its holy fire. 

Have I relinquished winning a precious gem,” he 
continued, fiercely, that it may become but an appendage 
to lust ? Have I resigned my holiest honor into his keeping 
to be brought before my gaze an object of shame, snapped 
of its life-strings, to be hidden in an untimely grave ? ” 

Upon manliness avenging brute force that had outraged 
womanly virtue, men and law wink with approval. Would 
not both approve my crushing the life of one, infinitely 
baser than the other ? Of one who, with his good looks, 
his ingratiating, courtly manner and winning tongue 
(speaking of an undying love), beguiling thereby an inno- 
cent heart — and because of love and trust, robs her of more 
than her life — only to cast her off, a prey to shame and 
despair! His victim having a most potent right to be 
heard 1 ” 

No human life,” rejoined the blind artist, thoughtfully, 
‘‘ should be slain without a hearing, be the crime charged 
the foulest. Those taking it otherwise, commit an outrage 
against the Giver of it! ’Tis, therefore,” he continued, 


130 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


with visible emotion, “ that I must step before the slayer of 
my child and give him a hearing. Clare loved him well. 
To her memory I owe that duty. After I hear him, I, the 
father of his victim, will judge his guilt without bias. •If 
he be guilty,” he continued, in a stern voice, to the full 
extent of mj belief, I will pronounce judgment upon him, 
and will have no mercy. My conscience then will clear me 
from wrong.. Should my arm fail me, and I need you and 
your eyes, you shall become both to me. This must content 
you, at least, for the present.” 

It shall be then as you say,” repeated Martini, resign- 
edly. 

The following day the sculptor met Jack Wihnot, from 
whom he ascertained Yan Alden’s absence from New York; 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 




CHAPTER XXVL 

Mr. Todd, the constable, called upon Judge Brown, as 
prearranged. 

Placing in liis hands a list of some deserving poor, he 
pointed to tlie special case of a woman who had known 
better days, toiling now, and unable to take care of herself 
and child. 

Expressing once more his thanks for a ten pound note 
received for a service he had gladly rendered, he left the 
room. 

The following day, Helen, accompanied by the Judge, 
entered a dilapidated looking building situated in a narrow 
lane. 

In a dingy room, upon a bed, — if it could deserve the 
name, — reclined a woman whose countenane bore traces of 
want and disease. 

Her sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, pallid and shrivelled 
face, gave her the appearance of a woman of fifty, though 
her age was but thirty, as Helen later ascertained. 

The room bore signs of the greatest poverty. 

It contained, besides the bed, two chairs, a wooden box, 
serving apparently for a table, and a few dishes and pots. 

On their entrance, the woman, who was dressed in a 
cotton wrapper, patched but tidy looking, rose to a sitting 
posture. 

A hollow cough indicated a disease that may soon extin- 
guish the flickering embers of her life. 


132 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


Helen was greatly startled at her appearance, and at the 
same time surprised at the manner in which the woman 
expressed her welcome. Every word she uttered denoted 
her to be a woman who knew how to express herself well. 

Deeply moved, she seated herself near the bed and 
said : Mrs. Loring, I believe this to be your name, — Mr. 
Todd, who is known to you, gave us your address and spoke 
to us of your condition, and tliat you are deserving of the 
good will of your fellow beings. ’T is no shame to be poor,” 
added Helen, noticing the woman’s downcast looks ; the 
more so if we have not wilfully brought poverty upon our- 
selves. Please, do not consider our coming here merely a 
capricious object for charity. Having heard of your sorrow, 
we came to offer you friendly succor, which all of us, more 
or less, may need some time.” 

Mrs. Loring, who had listened to Helen’s kind words, was 
visibly affected and sobbed as if her heart would break. 

You must not, indeed, you must not give way to such 
emotion,” said Helen, greatly distressed. I hope that my 
words have not opened the flood-gates of 3^our grief. I 
came to close them, that is, if I can, and as far as I can, if 
you will let me.” 

Ere Helen could prevent it, Mrs. Loring grasped her 
hand, covering it with kisses, and in a voice still broken by 
sobs, said, My dear, kind lady ! my tears are flowing be- 
cause of the kind sympathy you expressed ; quite different 
from those, who, barely deigning me a look or kind word, 
offer me charity. You came for charity’s sake,” she con- 
tinued, and your proffered kind sympathy does me infinite 
good ; more than money could for you demonstrate to me 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


133 


that there are yet some kind beings living — only that I am 
out of their pale ; and oh ! by my own — by my own acts, 
and because of the cruelty of those I loved,” a fresh burst 
of tears and sobs here choked her voice. 

Helen’s interest and sympathy were now visably aroused. 
She felt sure that the poor invalid belonged to the unfortu- 
nate class of gentlewomen, whose own folly or cruel destiny 
often brings to the verge of misery and destitution and 
beyond the pale of their kin. 

Compose yourself, my good woman,” she said, in a 
gentle tone, ‘^be of good cheer. We will befriend you. 
You arouse a desire to know something of your past. T 
hope my assurance that it is not idle curiosity, will satisfy 
you as to my motive for intimating the same.” 

‘‘ Kind lady,” rejoined the invalid, I feel no reluctance 
to speak to you of my past.” Looking now at the Judge, 
she asked, in a seemingly embarrassed manner, ‘^Is the 
gentleman your husband ?” 

No ; Mrs. Loring,” replied Helen, smiling at the Judge, 
who had seated himself beside her, this is my uncle — to 
me, like a dear father.” 

“ Mrs. Loring, gazing at Helen’s lovely countenance, 
said, I thought not. Summer and winter in one would 
pr'oduce a season in which a rare tender plant like yourself 
would thrive but poorly. Neither could winter be content 
to sacrifice to the behest of such a potent ray, like yourself, 
even if willing to bask in it during noon hours — -nature’s 
dormant, much needed repose.” 

My dear Mrs. Loring,” uttered Helen, with surprise 
depicted on her countenance, you astonish me with your 


134 VAN ALDEN, JR. 

diction ! How could one like you have come to such sur- 
roundings ? ” 

You are, no doubt, aware,” rejoined Mrs. Loring, that 
the axis of our lives urges mostly in one direction — which 
is love. Alas ! It often lands us in a dark abyss, terrible 
to dwell in, and from which egress is impossible, because of 
the many obstacles placed in our way.” 

“ I have been well brought up,” she continued. “ My 
father was a prosperous merchant, and afforded me, his only 
child a good education. When about sixteen years of age 
I had the misfortune to lose my poor mother. Six months 
after her death father married again. My step-mother 
made no endeavors, nor did she care to win my love and 
confidence ; I might have learned to care for her, at least, 
for father’s sake, had she possessed the womanly tenderness 
her position towards me required. 

^‘My father was always indulgent, although sparing in 
his demonstrations of affection. After his second marriage 
these ceased altogether, and resigned me entirely to the con- 
trol of his wife. My home, which had been a happy one 
to the time of my motlier’s death, became less so now, 
mainly because of my step-mother’s endeavor to subject me 
to her whims. 

My father was a man fifty-five years of age, and became 
himself a slave to the will of his young wife. He would 
often remonstrate with me because, as he said, of my ill 
behavior towards his dear wife ; an ill behavior which con- 
sisted in not pleasing her caprices. 

“ I loved my father dearly and yearned to throw myself 
into his arms, and beseech him to love his only daughter, the 


VAN AI.DEN, JR. 


135 


child of his once beloved wife, who, as I often had heard, 
looked her very image. His stern manner repelled any 
such attempt of mine. 

“ Later a cousin of my step-mother paid us a visit, and 
displeased me with his attentions. One day I was sum- 
moned to her presence and was informed that her cousin, 
Mr. Chisholm, wished to claim my hand in marriage. I 
replied, that as unlikely she herself would marry the gen- 
tleman, as unlikely would I. I knelt before my father, 
beseeching him not to urge me to disobedience — not to force 
me into a marriage with a man hateful to me. Father was 
inexorable, replying that if I intended to be disobedient, 
and knew better than he what would be to my welfare, I 
had better leave the home where I had shown so little love 
and respect, so little appreciation for their kind and loving 
interest. 

“ Two days later my trunks were packed and I was ready 
to leave the home of my childhood, never to return. My 
father would not even receive me to bid him farewell,” she 
said, in a tremulous voice, vainly endeavoring to check the 
tears that were flooding her eyes. 

“ I journeyed to an aunt, a sister of my lamented mother, 
who lived in Yorkshire. She received me cordially and 
approved my having declined a marriage with a man whose 
very touch was repugnant to me, saying that father’s cruel 
treatment would surely revert upon his own head. I placed 
my hand on her lips to prevent her uttering those words. 

“ The town in which my aunt resided, is a thriving 
manufacturing place. My fairly good looks, vivacity of 
youth, and my accomplishments in vocal and instrumental 


136 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


music, soon made me a favorite in society, especially among 
young men. I became interested in a handsome, fascinating 
man, well connected ; bookkeeper to a large woolen ware- 
house, who ultimately succeeded in winning my love. 

‘‘My attention had been drawn to his somewhat fast 
habits ; that he would indulge occasionally in more liquor 
than was good for him. He promised never to touch a drop 
again. Prior to our marriage a lady friend, to whom Irwin 
had formerly paid some attention, hinted at a previous love 
ajffair of his. When mentioning this to him, he replied 
that he may have felt an affinity for a girl, but that such had 
long since ceased to exist, and that a past affinity does not 
preclude true love for a woman one is about to make his 
wife. This explanation sufficed a heart that loved dearly. 

“We were ultimately married,” continued Mrs. Loring. 
“ There hardly could have existed a happier woman than 
myself. My husband was kind and loving. What more 
does woman desire ? About three months after our mar- 
riage — iny husband being absent on business — the servant 
entered my room, announcing that a young woman urgently 
wished to speak to me. 

“ The woman, or rather girl, for she did not seem older 
than eighteen, related to me her story. 

“ But I will not tire you with the details,” remarked Mrs. 
Loring, “ and will merely say that the girl belonged to poor 
but respectable people living in a town near Bradford, where 
she met my husband, who, after winning her love, betrayed 
her. She had only lately heard of his whereabouts and 
marriage, and had come to call him to account ! 

“ Need I tell you how grieved I felt ? and how I pitied 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


137 


that poor girl ? I wept like a child, and told her that I 
was not aware of her relationship towards iny husband. 
That if by persecuting him she would be happier, T was will- 
ing to be miserable. 

My burning tears spoke of the anguish of my heart ; 
they affected the poor girl visibly, for she sobbed herself. 
At last she said : ^ No, Mrs. Loring ! I will not be the in- 
strument of wrecking your life because your husband 
wrecked mine. If I step between you, the result to myself 
could be at best only a greater degradation. My revenge 
I’ll forego for your sake, and hope you will be happy.’ 

Touched to the core, I sprang to my feet and clasped 
the girl to my heart, like I would an erring sister. 

“ Going to my desk, I took the money kept there for em- 
ergencies and handed it to her, saying : ‘ Take this, it may 
make you comfortable for a time at least.’ She refused, 
saying that she would accept only sufficient to take her to 
London. 

“ The smallest of the notes being £5, I insisted on her 
taking at least that much. 

‘^After tea I brought her to the station. On her depart- 
ure I received her assurance that she would write to me, if 
in need of a friend. 

On my return home thoughts heaped themselves upon 
thoughts ! I dreaded the future ! My husband was guilty 
of an act that had no palliation, and should have no pallia- 
tion ill the mind of a good woman. He was guilty of an 
act which proved to me the baseness of his heart and mind, 
and in such hands I had staked my happiness ! 

‘‘ He loves me now. How long will he love me ? ’T is 


138 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


true he made me his wife. May he not tire of me ? Such 
were the agonizing thoughts robbing me of my peace of mind. 

Two days later my husband returned home. I had re- 
solved not to mention to him the subject preying on my 
mind. In his smiles and caresses I tried to cast from me all 
vague fears and doubts, thinking that he may not have loved 
that girl as he loves me. 

One morning I read in the newspaper the description 
of a young woman and child whose bodies had been found 
floating in the Thames, the child tied to the wrist of its 
mother. The paper stated that it was a sad case of suicide ; 
that no trace of identity could be found upon them, only in 
a tiny box, tightly secured, a slip of paper w^as found, on 
which was written the following words : ‘No happiness for 
me on earth. I seek oblivion of my misery in the embrace 
of the waters, ready to receive one repudiated by her fel- 
low beings.’ 

“ From the description, I recognized the identity of the 
poor girl rny husband had so cruelly wronged. She had 
sought death, and not wishing to trust her child to the mercy 
of the world, had rendered its soul into the merciful keep- 
ing of the Father of mankind. 

“ My dear young lady,” resumed Mrs. Loring after a 
pause, during which she seemed to collect her thoughts, “ I 
tried my utmost to blot from my memory the dark spot in 
my husband’s life, but the sad face of the suicide haunted 
me and marred his caresses. I would have despaired but 
for the dear little innocent that had come to cheer my life. 
In its sweet face I found a new world, and once more felt 
happy, until my husband’s conduct changed. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


139 


I mast now be brief, for I cannot bear to dwell on the 
years of misery and despair that followed. He commenced 
to neglect me, then failed to support ns. He soon became 
a bankrupt in pocket, body and soul. His old habits had 
returned to him. The man who could crush one woman’s 
heart felt no scruples in crushing the heart of his wife, the 
mother of his offspring., 

“ I bore with all for the sake of my dear child, whose 
father he was — acquitting himself so ill of that name. Often 
when we had no food in the house, he would come home 
drunk, abusing and ill-treating me. 

“ Ultimately he had disposed of everything of value. In 
the end the landlord distrained for rent, and I and the child 
were put into the street. Since then I have heard nothing 
of him. 

The rest is soon told,” she continued. No longer able 
to eke out an existence by my own efforts, I was offered the 
charity of the work-house. I could not make up my mind 
to go there ; no, my dear lady, we could not go there !” she 
burst forth in an agony of grief, the recollection of all these 
years of misery had called forth. 

My good woman,” said Helen, who had listened with 
sympathetic interest to the invalid’s sad narrative, ‘‘ I sin- 
cerely regret that I have been the innocent cause of recalling 
to your memory the sad incidents in your life. Had I 
known its effect on you I would not have asked you to ac- 
quaint me with the same.” 

Mrs. Loring, who had now regained her composure, re- 
joined : ‘‘ Set your mind at ease, dear lady ; tears often 
alleviate a heavy heart.” 


140 VAN ALDEN, JR. 

“ And your father, has he entirely forsaken you ?” inter- 
rogated Helen. 

My father,” rejoined Mrs. Loring, burying her face 
in her hands, died suddenly a year after his marriage. He 
had disinherited me in favor of his wife, who soon after li is 
death married her cousin, Mr. Chisholm, who, as I have been 
told, was a former admirer of hers. Ever since my father’s 
untimely death,” the invalid continued, ‘‘I could not for- 
give my aunt, for having hurled maledictions upon him. 
She, herself, is dead these many years.” 

The Judge, liimself visibly affected, said in a soft, kind 
tone, I disapprove of a woman remaining under the same 
roof with a man who is a knave, until he makes her home- 
less. I suppose it is woman-like,” he added gently. Your 
child, Mrs. Loring ; has it not attained an age enabling it 
to take care of the parent ?” 

My child is now ten years of age. He earns three shill- 
ings and six pence a week. I occasionally earn a few 
shillings by such work as I can do, when able. Thus we 
manage to keep the roof over our heads.” 

‘‘You must not despair, Mrs. Loring,” said the Judge, 
consolingly. “ Judging from your narrative, you are yet a 
young woman. Your ailment may yet be arrested by care 
and nourishing food. Providence has sent to you friends 
who will not desert you. You must have no false pride,” 
he continued, “but permit us to befriend you. The air in 
this room tells on me, even. We will leave you now and 
see you again as soon as you are removed to more healthy 
surroundings.” Again bidding the invalid “ Be of good 
cheer,” the Judge and Helen left. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


141 

Half an hour later the grocer near by brought to the in- 
valid some port wine and other immediate necessaries the 
Judge had ordered. 

On their arrival at the hotel Helen penned Mr. Todd a 
postal, requesting him to call on the Judge at once. 


142 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXYII. 

Edinburgh, July IGtb, 188-. 

My Dear Friend. — I can scarcely believe my eyes when 
looking at this date. Barely five weeks from home, and 
sure enough, here, we are in the metropolis of Scotland. 
Uncle is lolling and smoking a cigar, gazing at intervals 
through the telescope upon the shores of Fife and the Le- 
mond liills from the window of our hotel, and I am sitting 
and penning these lines, occasionally impelled to gaze on 
the charming villages and cottages rising thickly from em- 
bowering shrubberies, which, between the northern part of 
Edinburgh and the sea, look like a continuous pleasure 
ground or garden. You, my dear friend, must not mind if 
such a lovely scene has even intervened with my pleasant 
occupation of communicating with you. 

There ! Now I have drawn the window blind to shut 
from my gaze the outside world. It will fit me better to 
pen to you my inner one and of my life for the past ten 
days. 

During our two weeks’ stay in London I spent some very 
pleasant, some really delightful hours and days. I felt a 
pang in bidding our many friends adieu. Mr. Van Alden 
remained in London. He will join us later in Perth. I 
miss him very much — ever so much. This confession of 
mine will apprise you that he has made considerable pro- 
gress in my thoughts — and, I must say, in my heart. I miss 
his kind look, the gentle pressure of his hand when bidding 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 143 

me good morn or good night, and liis allusions of his tender 
regard for me. 

I sometimes think tliat a heart which has learned to love, 
finding the sentinel common sense barring its outpour into 
the willing receptacle of the one responsive breast, is robbed 
of the joy, the ecstacy young love only is said to bring. 
You once told me that ecstacy in love often brings disap- 
pointment as its penalty, and related to me the penalty you 
yourself had paid. You then asked, wliicli one outweighs 
the other. My answer then, is my answer now. The watch- 
ful sentinel within me is therefore a welcome intruder. 
Parental like, it beckons me to command a halt on the exu- 
berance of my heart, and at the same time fondles it with 
the happy belief that its affection is not misplaced. This 
in itself fills my heart with joy. 

Now, my dear friend, I will again revert to London. I 
have mentioned our rambles through some of the districts 
of the poor. Mr. Todd, our guide, gave us the names of a 
few deserving poor, pointing to the special case of a sick 
woman, unable to take care of herself and her child. 

Uncle and I concluded to find her, and I will forever re- 
joice because of our impulse to see her. I cannot very w’ell 
narrate her sad story. Her being a gentlewoman appealed 
the stronger to our sympathies. Her melancholy story 
touched me inexpressibly, the remembrance of which can 
hardly be effaced from memory. Uncle Bob made her com- 
fortable, until we can take her and her son with us. Uncle 
has concluded to educate the boy — the fine lad that he is — 
who, with his scanty earnings, helps to maintain his mother. 
The physician says that if Mrs. Loritig (this is the woman’s 


144 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


name) is removed to a milder climate, the removal may ar- 
rest the otherwise speedy termination of the malady. Will 
this not prove the romance of their lives ? 

You will be surprised that we ate a sixpenny dinner, or 
at least we paid that amount for one. I had a curiosity to 
know how the poor artisan and working people dine. We 
therefore entered a cook-shop (this is the name given in 
England to the humbler class of restaurants). No table- 
cloths, wooden tables, partitioned, to insure aristocratic pri 
vacy, or to prevent strife. Upon the table were salt cellar 
and pepper box. Dinner consisted of pea soup, brought in 
a large bowl, in which pepper, grease and mint played a con- 
spicuous part. No other taste to it. Price \d, (penny) ; 
roast mutton, thinly sliced, with two potatoes and greens, 
A:d.\ boiled rice, meant for rice pudding, \d.\ bread extra. 

I noticed the sturdy laborers eating their meals. By the 
clean plates left they demonstrated that they relished the 
quality, even if the quantity could not appease their hunger. 
My aristocratic palate, from the mere taste I took, found 
too much quantity and no quality. 

I am told that amongst the middle and poorer classes the 
meals are cooked on the open grate upon the smoking coal 
cinders ; that England is the paradise for lazy housekeepers ; 
that the Sunday joint is large enough to do them for din- 
ners until Wednesday, sliced cold, with potatoes and cab- 
bage, and perhaps a dumpling for those affording that 
luxury, all prepared in a half hour before meal-time, the 
vegetables made palatable by salt and pepper. If any Eng- 
lishman suffers from dyspepsia, such originates only from 
eating heavy dumplings and plum-puddings, for everything 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


H5 

else they eat is “ nature undressed/’ seasoned by the addi- 
tion of salt and pepper only. 

As I had enough soft cushion riding, I wanted the oppor- 
tunity to ride in one of the penny omnibuses I heard so 
much of. Uncle and I entered one and rode through 
the city toward Aldgate and Bow. There were about six 
passengers all told. A drenching rain brought others into 
the vehicle until all the places were taken. A woman, with 
a heavy bundle, instead of finding friendly room made for 
her, even at the expense of a few minutes’ inconvenience to 
some of the passengers, was met with a shout of there is 
no room for yon ! no room ! we will not be imposed upon.” 
All this time she stood bent in a most painful attitude and 
must undoubtedly have been touched by very unpleasant 
emotions. I blushed with shame and burned with indigna- 
tion, at the unmanliness of the men within. Uncle insisted 
on her taking his seat, which the poor woman accepted re- 
luctantly. Uncle stood with body bent until we reached 
Aldgate. Two passengers alighting there, he resumed his 
seat. Men — I don’t mean gentlemen — in England seem 
little disposed to be polite to women they know, much less 
to a poor woman they do not know. 

I spent an evening with our banker’s family. We were 
received with the most cordial friendliness. Our host was 
well informed and intelligent ; he had traveled with his two 
daughters — such nice girls — on the continent, and had also 
visited our own country. We were entertained with some 
fine music. These girls did not play for silly effect upon 
the listener ; no such thing! They proved themselves judi- 
cious amateur artists, greatly delighting their guests, quite 


146 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


a number of them being present. What fine specimens of 
English girls they are. In the highest degree natural, 
gentle and easy in their manners, combined with such sweet 
tempers. I found myself more at ease there, than amongst 
many of the more aristocratic companies I met. I could 
have enjoyed the evening much better in company with the 
two girls, their father. Uncle and Frank included, onlj^ that 
some of the sedate city magnates, with their staid matrons 
and a few shy girls, threw a wet blanket over the buoyant 
spirits of those present. 

Most Englishmen, as Mr. Yan Alden explained, are too 
pious to be amused ; some too fine. Religion with them is 
a grievous lever with which they crush attempted cheerful- 
ness ; a lever that dampens any attempt for hilarity, dread- 
ing that there must be something silly in being merry. I 
believe Mr. Yan Alden to be right, for I noticed this in 
many instances. 

Later in the evening Mr. Yan Alden, the two girls and 
myself had a delightful chat. What pleasant voices they 
have wdth which to speak. If I were a man I could fall in 
love with their voices alone. Such girls would be charming 
to live with. They made no effort to display their clever- 
ness, but were more ready to listen to the cleverness of others. 

And now, my dear friend, I must close these lines. I 
will write to you soon again. Uncle sends his kindest re- 
gards. I expect a letter from you in Perth and hope it will 
be a long, a very lengthy one. 

With an adieu, love and best wishes for you, 

I remain yours, sincerely, 

Helen. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


147 


CHAPTER XXYIII. 

Van Alden’s days in London, intervening his joining 
Helen in Scotland, were partly spent in company with 
Archibald Lansing. 

To the astonishment of that gentleman, the gay Ameri- 
can,” as he called Van Alden, did not exhibit the zest he 
had expected of him after he (Archibald Lansing) had vol- 
unteered to lead him into the midst of the gay life London 
offers in the season. 

Van Alden would join the coteries of the gay young 
people ; flirt, reply with telling looks to the winsome smiles 
of the ladies, and with the code of usual phrases required on 
such occasions. He would walk, talk animatedly with a 
handsome girl ; pay attention to her vivacious prattle ; 
would whirl her through a waltz, eyed by all because of his 
manly grace, delighting thereby his fair partner, who felt 
conscious of being envied by her less fortunate sisters. The 
day over, he would return to his bachelor quarters dissatis- 
fled with the manner in which he had spent it. 

As much as our hero was steeped in the doctrines of self- 
ish pleasures, in the sensuous school of life in which he had 
lived, he had not altogether a selflsh heart. His experience 
with the world and the gentle sex had taught him but little 
reverence for either. 

A man whom everybody flatters, and to whom everybody 
tries to be subservient, must presume upon all offering itself 
as a dutiful tribute to him, of which he will divest himself 


148 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


with impunity after tiring of it, and look for new offerings 
that are flocking to him. 

Helen had crossed his path and by her furtive glance had 
merely denoted a slight recognition of him, such as we can- 
not help showing an object that attracts us, and had passed 
on — not once turning her gaze to attract him in return. 

It was not often that he met her like — and because of it, 
felt himself the more attracted. 

The spell of her womanly grace was heightened each time 
he met her. 

As he would sooner or later bring to his home a life-mate, 
he thought that Helen could beflttingly grace his golden 
cage — if she would only content herself with that much and 
not exact too much of him otherwise. 

As the reader is aware, he had concluded to apply him- 
self to the task of winning her. Later he found that task 
not only a pleasant but a delightful one. 

He had learned the sterling worth of her character, and 
she had imbued him within this short space of time with 
new thoughts, desires and objects in life. 

After Helen had left for Scotland, leaving him free to 
return to the channels of his wonted gay life — to all that 
wealth and favor offered him, they had lost for him their 
former zest. 

He now felt that he cared for Helen more than he 
thought he did and could, and that he had a heart to offer 
in return for hers, and not merely a golden cage, that would 
be no happy abode for one like her, unless she could And 
within it a love that can treasure her own. 

- Yes ! He knew that he loved — not passionately, like his 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 149 

boyish love had been, but truly. If she would only let him 
love her. 

He felt a reverence for her purity of mind and character, 
and would endeavor to be worthy of the love she could 
bring him. 

With such thoughts Van Alden left London to join Helen 
in Scotland. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


150 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

The Judge and Helen had visited the home of their an- 
cestors and then journeyed through those parts of Scotland 
that were of most interest to them. Helen delighted in the 
Highland scenery, and all that is connected with its tradi- 
tions, the poetry of Scottish history and literature ; and pil- 
grimaged through many parts of the ancient kingdom by 
rail or water into Berwick-upon-Tweed, and into the border 
land ; a country reputed to be the most religious, and the 
most moral in the world. 

They journeyed through the most picturesque portions of 
Perth, Stirling, Dumbarton and Argylshire sea-lochs, and 
the many fine mountain groups. The approach to all these 
scenes lies through those lowland districts which abound in 
landscape beauty, and in historical and antiquarian interest. 

Dundee, Perth, Stirling, Glasgow, with nearly all the 
palace towns and most of the cathedral cities of Southern 
Scotland, are included in the range, and are reached and ex- 
plored in short journeys from Edinburgh. 

They traveled through its mountain ranges and groups ; 
the great estuaries, the passes and the lake scenery, includ- 
ing those sinuous arms of the sea, looking like inland lakes 
and land-locked narrow bays, which indent so much of the 
western coast, beginning with Loch-Ryan and extending 
northward to Loch-Assynt. How much of the romantic, 
the wild and grand is included in this one feature ! 

Though the Scottish blood-drops about my heart caught 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


151 

the glow of the northern slopes of the Cheviot and the silver 
Tweed, Helen had written to Mrs. Loewenhaupt, there was, 
to tell the truth, little landscape beauty to admire from the 
time we crossed the Scottish border at Berwick until we 
approached Edinburgh ; but I felt interested in the many 
old seats of the nobility and gentry. Uncle was enraptured 
witli the husbandry and tillage, with hedgerows and sub- 
stantial enclosures. Then came the brown heathery range 
of those desolate Lamermoors — fit scenes of the deepest 
tragedy that ever was imagined by creative genius. 

I am an admirer of Highland scenery, but love mostly 
that connected with the traditions, the poetry, history and 
literature of Scotland, and will therefore mention only a few 
of the latter. Of the many charming objects .which our 
travels unfolded, and in which I was very much interested 
is Neddry Castle, once the stronghold of the Setons, to 
which Queen Mary fied upon escaping from Loch-Lev’en ; 
then near Fallkirk, the palace of Linlithgow. It is closely 
neighbored by an old church which, I was amused to hear, 
an unreformed magistrate had whitewashed to prevent it 
from taking the cholera. Here Mary Queen of Scots was 
born. Here also was the Regent Murrey shot from a win- 
dow in the principal street ; and there are many more lions 
in the ancient borough which was once a famous locality in 
the royal annals of Scotland and which will live forever in 
the poetry of Sir Walter Scott. 

From the castle hill of Stirling, I looked over the broad 
fertile strath of Forth, through which we passed, and the 
fair realms of Monteith, with their girdling mountains 
opening wide before us. I sat me down on the ladies’ hill, 


152 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


overlooking the ancient tournament ground, and conjured 
up before me the days of chivalry, and thought how much 
we have gained in the homely comforts and security of life, 
against what we have lost in the grace and spirit of life. 

Uncle provokingly remarked, that, but for our present age 
as it is, there would have been no chance for a Yankee girl 
ever seeing this enchanting country. 

The vale of Devon possesses a character unique in Scot- 
tish scenery. It has been called the Temple of Scotland. 

We left Stirling for Kinross, then for Dollar, where we 
ascended to castle Campbell. 

We gave nearly the whole day to the castle, the falls of 
Devon, named the Caldron Linn and Rambling-Brig.” 

We visited Ardvoirlich, the residence of that family of 
Stewarts whose traditions as uncle informed me, are em- 
bodied in the legend of Montrose. 

It has been a busy time, with rambling and climbing, 
touring and detouring. I have no hope of giving you the 
faintest idea of the surpassing loveliness and variety in 
river, lakelet and woodlands, Alps on Alps towering in the 
distance. I cast loving eyes on many sweet spots where 
one might dream away a summer in intimate communion 
and fellowship with nature, and in happy oblivion of this 
busy, unquiet work-a-day world. Such scenes have been 
painted to me as existing, and had kindled my imagina- 
tion ; and I have longed for the wings of a dove to fly 
away and see them all. And now, having seen them all, 
my pen cannot adequately describe the delight these 
glimpses have brought me. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


153 


CHAPTER XXX. 

After two weeks’ travel Helen and her uncle returned 
to Perth. According to previous arrangements, they paid 
their cousin, Squire McLane — who owned an estate near 
this ancient town — a visit. 

The estate, a handsome mansion built in the midst of 
beautiful grounds, but without the park scenes of English 
domains, surrounded by fine plantations, spacious level fields, 
consisting of fifty acres or more — each fenced by lofty, 
impenetrable, quick hedges — the farm houses fine models 
of what they should be according to Englishmen’s tastes, 
where substance, not shadow, is the criterion of beauty — 
seemed a delightful abode to Helen’s gaze, as she approached 
its environ. 

The spirited horses driven by young McLane — who had 
come to the station to meet them — approaching the portals 
of the mansion, stopped suddenly, aware that they had 
reached their journey’s end, and were willing that their 
master’s honored guests should first alight and enter its 
hospitable doors before they approach their own abode, 
seen from the distance, and inviting them to a sumptuous 
repast of Scottish oats and fragrant clover.” 

Young McLane, a youth about seventeen years of age, 
assisted Helen to alight. 

Mrs. McLane, a portly lady, greeted the guests cordially, 
and, leading them into a spacious drawing-room, said, apolo- 
getically : “ My husband sends his excuses ; he will return 


154 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


in time for dinner. You must be tired and dusty, dear 
Helen, and will need an hour’s rest and a brush,” she added, 
kindly. “ Mrs. Muir, the housekeeper, will show you and 
Cousin Robert to your rooms. I hope you will find them 
comfortable and feel at home in them.” 

The apartments Helen was led into consisted of a bed and 
sitting-room adjoining, and were furnished with everything 
that could contribute to the comfort of the occupant. 

The fragrance of flowers placed in large, handsome vases 
greeted her entrance. A caged finch warbled its sweet 
notes of welcome to her. 

Helen, delighted with the rooms, felt at once homelike 
in them. 

Two hours later our travelers were seated at dinner. The 
ride and the pure air had quickened their appetites, and 
they did ample justice to the repast set before them, which 
was spiced by the humorous conversation of the Squire, 
and the merry chatter of his children, the youth previously 
mentioned, and a girl about fifteen years of age. 

Dinner over, the Squire proposed a game of whist to the 
Judge, and to the young folks a stroll through the grounds. 

The hall stood open to the summer night. The air was 
full of sweetness. 

Yes,” said Helen, it is too lovely out doors to stay in.” 

It was a delightful romp in the moonlight night. The 
pathway as bright as twilight. 

‘‘ Cousin Helen,” remarked young McLane, ‘‘ I have been 
told that girls in the States are lean and lanky-looking be- 
cause of their eating so much sweet stuff and sitting all day 
long in rockers, as father calls those hobby horse like chairs. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


155 


Really, cousin, I must say that you don’t look like that at 
all. I suppose your being of Scottish descent makes the 
difference. So much the better for your looks,” he added, 
gazing at her admiringly. 

How old are you, cousin ? ” he asked, after a pause. 

This is a question you should not ask of a lady,” replied 
Helen, archly. Being a cousin, you are somewhat privi- 
leged, and I will therefore entrust you with the secret of 
my age, if you promise not to tell any tales,” she added, in 
a playful tone. I will soon arrive at the mature age ,of 
twenty-one.” 

The youth, after a moment’s thoughtful silence, rejoined 
in a regretful tone, ‘‘No! It won’t do ! I could not even 
dream of marrying a girl so much older than myself. I 
wish you were but fifteen,” he added, with a sigh, “ so that 
when 1 become of age and ready to marry, you ’d be the 
younger of the two.” 

Helen’s merry, silvery laughter because of the regretful 
tone with w:hich her rustic admirer had spoken, rang 
through the stillness of the night. 

At last she rejoined, “If you really cared for me, cousin, 
you would have me, even if older than yourself, should I 
be content to wait until then. And why would you not marry 
a girl older than yourself? Would she not be better fitted 
to take care of one who needs yet to be taken care of at 
that age,” she asked, mischievously. 

‘^Because women get -old sooner than men, and 
wrinkled,” he replied, in a serious tone, “ and then we can’t 
help taking a fancy to a prettier and younger woman and 
run away with her ; like Squire Hodgson’s son has, lately. 


156 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


I really would not like to make myself guilty of such an 
act and treat a woman so shamefully.” 

You are a good lad, cousin McLane,” rejoined Helen. 
That ’s quite proper ; never marry a girl older than your- 
self, even if it robs me of a chance with you. I hope at 
least that you will always reserve for me a cousinly feeling. 
Should you ever visit us in the States, I will disabuse your 
mind and introduce you to lots of Yankee girls younger 
tlian yourself, who, in spite of sweets and rockers, are really 
fine loooking.” 

Thus they chatted gayly, strolling for over an hour in 
the grounds. 

The following day Helen and young McLane were walk- 
ing along the path leading through tlie verdant meadows, 
towards the village, a short distance from the Squire’s 
mansion. 

Her dress, a gray colored walking suit, though made of 
inexpensive material, was a lovely costume; everything 
about it charmingly becoming her graceful figure. Her 
attire seemed in keeping with the glory of the afternoon. 

A locomotive in the distance gave the signal of its ap- 
proaching the station, which was about two miles from the 
village. 

Helen looked wistfully in the direction of the train as it 
whirled past. Her face flushed slightly at the thought that 
Van Alden might be one of the passengers. 

She had received several missives from him. In his last 
he had mentioned that he was about to leave London for 
Perth, to join her there. Helen had informed him of her 
leaving on a visit to Squire McLane, where she would be 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 157 

pleased to meet him, assuring him of the Squire’s cordial 
welcome. 

Is it a cousin of your’s only that is coming, or is he our 
cousin as well?” inquired young McLane. ^^How you 
blush ! ” he ejaculated, noticing her rising color. “ In your 
tell-tale face I can read that I would have no chance with 
you ; a girl who blushes when spoken to about a fellow is 
pretty far gone on him. You might have told me as much 
last night,” he continued, in a petulant tone, and thereby 
have saved me many sleepless hours, in which I argued 
with myself that you might be an exception to the rule. I 
have read,” he resumed, after a moments silence, that some 
women carry their age well ; in fact never look real old, 
and I had made up my mind to propose to you when of 
age. It is all over now,” he added, in a regretful manner. 

Helen, amused at the manner and tone her boyish cousin 
had revealed to her his intended proposal when of age, re- 
joined playfully, You surely don’t expect a young lady to 
rely on an intended future proposal? I believe in the 
adage, ^ a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’ I 
could only accept an immediate proposal, and only from a 
gentleman of age. Uncle informed me that minors are dis- 
qualified by law to make a valid contract,” she added, 
laughing merrily. 

You are like all other girls — not a bit better — eager to 
get married,” rejoined the youth, in a tone indicating 
vexation. 

The gentleman coming,” he resumed, after a pause, 
do you expect him to propose to you ? You may confide 
in me, cousin,” he added, in a confidential manner, ^^for I 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


158 

am no tell-tale fellow, and like to be made a confidante of — 
particularly in love affairs.” 

“ Why, Cousin McLane, you astonish me with your acute, 
guessing powers,” rejoined Helen, archly. ‘‘This time 
you have missed tlie mark. Having assured me that you 
are no tell-tale fellow, I will confide in you, and inform you 
that the gentleman coming is the lover of a young friend of 
mine, whose cruel father forbade her listening to his love- 
making. Neither must she write to him, nor receive his 
letters. Both made me their confidante and the medium of 
their correspondence. He is coming for her letters, and I 
am to inclose his in mine.” 

“ Cousin Helen ! ” he exclaimed, “ I never thought that 
you could tell a fib. Would not the postage be cheaper 
than his coming all the way from Yankeedom? ” he asked. 

“ What a dunce he must be, if what you say could be 
true ! Surely, a girl like you would have nothing in com- 
mon with such a fellow. You are clever, cousin, but not 
clever enough to impose on me such a story. Anyhow,” 
he continued, in a patronizing tone, “you need have no 
fear, for I will not let the cat out of the bag.” 

“Young gentleman,” rejoined Helen, “if you cannot be- 
lieve my word, I will never again make of you a confidante.” 

They had now entered the village. 

At the postoffice young McLane received the mail ad- 
dressed to the mansion. 

“Here is a letter for you, cousin,” he said, handing the 
same to her. 

Helen, recognizing the handwriting as that of Mrs. 
Loewenhaupt, placed the missive in her pocket. 


VAN ALDRN, JR. 


159 


They now retraced their steps homewards. On reaching 
the foot-path leading through the meadow, they caught 
the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. 

Both turned their heads in the direction from whence 
the sound came. 

Helen recognized the approaching figure to be that of 
Van Alden. 

Her heart fiuttered ; she felt the color rising to her face, 
but she cared not if he noticed its glow. 

They halted, waiting the gentleman’s approach, 

A few seconds more and Van Alden stood by her side. 

“How you have startled me, Mr. Van Alden,” she ex- 
claimed, after greetings and introduction were over. “ How 
came you to be a foot passenger in these regions ? ” 

“ I reached the village in a cab. Espying you, I ordered 
the driver to bring my baggage to the Squire’s mansion, 
and followed your trail. Here I am! I hope that you. 
Miss Powell, and Mr. McLane, do not mind taking me 
along,” rejoined Van Alden, cautiously. 

The youth, with his gaze riveted on the new-comer, 
bowed politely in acquiescence. 

Helen having accepted Van Alden’s proffered arm, the 
trio wended their way homewards, engaging in a general 
conversation. 

The graceful form of the girl, and the stately-looking 
man, as they walked side by side, looked a pair destined to 
find wedded bliss and happiness in each other. 


i6o 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

The days spent in their rural retreat were to Helen by 
far more delightful than the many she had passed under 
the irksome restraint of social nothingness and etiquette. 

The home circle, enhanced by the consciousness of Van 
Alden’s presence, helped to stimulate the natural buoyancy 
of Helen’s spirit. She gradually became as frolicsome as 
her young cousins, and readily joined in all their youthful 
pranks. 

Even Van Alden caught the infection and soon became a 
part of the gay party — joining them even in their game of 

blind man’s buff.” 

How deftly Helen would evade his touch. Her joyous 
laughter, with its silvery tones, betraying her whereabouts ; 
he would strain his neck to get, if possible, a faint outline 
of her position, and then rush towards the spot. 

For his pains he would catch Rachel’s skirt, and, recog- 
nizing its owner, would quickly loosen it, and continue the 
chase after the prize. 

Young McLane’s gentle, mischievous push, had landed 
Helen into the blindfolded gentleman’s arms, who, con- 
tenting himself with holding her but a second, blind-folded 
her in return. 

‘‘ How you have surprised me,” said Van Alden to Helen 
later in the evening, whilst strolling in the grounds. I 
never dreamed there was so much mirth m you. I beheld 
you this evening in a new role — a more charming and 


VAN AI.DEN, JR. 


i6i 


pleasing one yon could scarcely have assumed. You suc- 
ceeded in bringing me back to my own boyish years, which, 
until this evening, I had deemed impossible.” 

I must confess to surprise at myself,” rejoined Helen. 

Those two youngsters made me nigh forget that I have 
outgrown their years. I will acknowledge that I followed 
ill their wake with more zest than your presence would 
have warranted. Really, Mr. Van Alden, I could not re- 
sist the spell of joyoasness that overcame me, and knowing 
that I am among dear friends (gazing at him with a win- 
some look, as she said this) I followed the impulse of the 
hour which may never return. How I delighted entering 
into my school girl’s gambols and frolics ! ” she exclaimed ; 

and when I noticed your infection, my girlish spirit knew 
no bounds. 

‘‘ So long as I am under this roof I will try to be the 
rustic girl, and will feel the better for it ; if I do not thereby 
incur your displeasure, for I seriously think of pleasing 
you,” she added, with a deep blush mantling her cheeks. 

Your conduct this evening deserves recognition. The 
next time we play blind man’s buff,” she went on, play- 
fully, ‘‘ I will grant you — provided you seize me, and I am 
not pushed into your arms to hold me for two seconds in- 
stead of one — but no longer — I seriously mean it,” she added 
mischievously. 

‘^And should I not be able to resist the temptation to 
clasp you to my heart for a longer time than you stipulate ?” 
asked Van Alden, with a most tender enunciation. 

Then you shall seize me but once during the game,” 
replied Helen archly. 


i 62 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


The company had separated for the night. Helen had 
sought the privacy of her room. Bringing fortli the letter 
she had received a few days previously from Mrs. Loewen- 
haupt, she again perused the contents, which ran as follows : 

Your letters dated Liverpool and London, bringing me 
glad tidings of your precious self, have been received and I 
have not tarried in my reply. I hope that these few lines 
will find you at your address in Perth. I have perused your 
letters with the greatest interest. 

From your description I have no doubt that Mr. Van 
Alden must be the beau ideal of a young woman. You 
write me that he has obtained a strong hold upon your wo- 
manly fency. All I can say to you on this matter is, that 
you have approached the momentous epoch of your life, 
where a woman’s greatest happiness is obtained when she 
has found one on whom she may lavish the wealth of her 
love, which she is prepared to give and receive. 

To you, my dear Helen, it is a state of awful import, into 
which you must enter with forethought, because it will fill 
your whole future life. You may be happy now, but most 
happy or most miserable you will be as a wife. Remember 
dear, to be happy in marriage life, you must have* a soul- 
mate as well as a house and help-mate. You must only 
choose one whom you can honestly love, honor and respect. 
You must have sufficient opportunity and observation, and 
must be confident of this, if your marriage shall not be a 
mockery. Unless you intend marrying for profit and con- 
venience only, satisfied with life in a temperature of indif- 
ference or mere liking ; to eating, drinking and sleeping, 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 163 

tlius rejecting all higher attractions, and sinking into a state 
of mere animal existence. 

Wealth, my dear, is not necessary to ensure felicity ; in- 
deed, it often tends to disrupt it ; nor is poverty conducive 
to happiness; competency, I believe suffices. After this 
more depends on the character, disposition and temper than 
on personal or intellectual advantages. 

The best wine is spoiled by a drop of bitters, and a bad 
temper or mean disposition has the same effect upon your 
life, which is mostly made up, not so much of duties and 
sacrifices, as of trifling things, in which the sunny smile 
and kind word preserves the heart and secures repose. 

From your letter I am confident that you have met your 
fate. My own individual prayers, if they can bring you the 
happiness you so well deserve, will make you happy indeed. 

On your return I will undoubtedly have the pleasure of 
meeting Mr. Van Alden. I will then tell him that you are 
worthy of the purest love man can give to woman. You 
may express to the gentleman my kindest regards; likewise 
to your dear uncle. 

With my best wishes. 

Your loving friend, 

Emily. 

After reading her letter Helen seated herself at the open 
window, inhaling the fragrant perfume with which the 
flowers scented the night air. The cooling breeze relieved 
lier throbbing temples, occasioned by the revelation this day 
had brought to her. 

On her hitherto peaceful, uneventful and happy journey 


164 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


through her young life, she had approached the enchanted 
valley of woman’s wonderful vision. On its borders stood 
her stately beloved pilgrim, beckoning her to share with him 
an elysium of earthly bliss. 

Her gaze is spellbound by the vista opening resplendent 
before her. Her heart shouts, because of the happiness that 
awaits her there — only that she is told to heed and scan her 
pilgrim’s strength, to ascertain if she can trust him to carry 
her safely through that valley. 

The ethereal heavens smile upon her thoughtful counte- 
nance. The purity of her thoughts and heart return the 
gaze. 

This day had brought her the certainty that Van Alden 
possessed her virgin heart in its entirety. He must be 
worthy of it, or else how could she Iiave offered it at his 
shrine. She has not tried woman’s handicraft to impel him 
towards her ; the art that wins but to lose. 

If he plied his to win her through a manly love that 
sanctified his wooing, and if his love has urged her heart 
sensible to its touch, and from a lofty behest of nature to 
respond, must she resist the happiness ? 

He, to whose honest wooing every threshold stands ajar, 
has sought the threshold of her heart, and because he 
thought her worthy, should she doubt his worthiness and 
stifle the pulsations of her heart that yearns to rest on his ? 

She must love, honor and respect ? Does she not honor 
and respect him because of her love ? 

This last thought brought to her face the happy repose 
that had rested upon it after Van Alden had bid her good 
night. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


165 

Her thoughts were full of her lover, and prevented the 
slumber she had sought. This time the handsome fellow’s 
vision was a welcome one. 

Helen rose early in the morning, and, after completing 
her toilet, descended to the drawing-room. This was a large, 
pleasant apartment, furnished in modern style ; with hand- 
some mirrors and fine paintings adorning the walls. The 
windows ajar permitted a full view into the garden, luxu- 
riant and brilliant in the rays of the morning sun. 

She was dressed in white muslin ; that blended well with 
her youthfulness. There was a serene calmness in her look, 
and her eyes, soft and tender, gazed upon the outstretched 
landscape varying in beauty, all of which spoke of the 
Omnipotence of our Creator. 

She seated herself upon the sofa, and read from a volume 
she had brought with her, the poetry being legibly refiected 
on her countenance, that looked radiant. 

Van Alden entered unobserved and beheld Helen seated, 
with her beautiful feet, encased with daintiest slippers, rest- 
ing on a cushion. Our hero would have given the world 
could he have kissed those little feet. 

A deep fiush had o’erspraad Helen’s face on becoming 
aware of Van Alden’s presence, and that his eyes were 
resting upon her in mute admiration. 

Smiling sweetly, she said: I hope, my Chevalier 
^eur"^) that you are not afraid to approach. Come and be 
seated ! I am a real being, and no vision.” 

‘‘ I am a Chevalier sans couer^^ as a certain young lady 


* Without fear, 
t Without a heart. 


i66 VAN ALDEN, JR. 

must be aware,’’ said Van Alden, seating himself next to 
her. 

Is that certain young lady aware that you are a gentle- 
man, heartless ? And has she possessed herself of it, with- 
out making amends? Indeed, she must be heartless!” 
rejoined Helen. 

Yes, very heartless, somewhat like yourself,” replied 
Yan Alden. 

We women all are heartless in the estimation of men, 
if we close our ears to their love-making longer than agree- 
able to them,” rejoined Helen. I am told that it hurts 
your vanity, if we try to withstand your fierce onslaught 
upon our affections, and that you accuse us of coquetry, 
cruelty and Heaven knows of what else. ’T is strange, that, 
judging us so harshly, your love should grow in volume 
with the resistance you find. We know this to be tJie 
fact, and naturally it stimulates our resisting power ; for 
we desire the whole volume of your affection. This is a 
laudable, I may say a noble purpose of ours — a purpose 
that should meet with your hearty approval, instead of your 
derision.” 

I am amazed at your revelation,” rejoined Van Alden 
in a humorous vein. How ill we have judged you, calum- 
niated you, called you heartless and Heaven knows what 
else. And all this abuse because of your laudable intent 
to stimulate our sluggish hearts. The wretches we are to 
raise our voices ; even if we must wince under the torture 
yon apply.” 

Do we really thereby torture you ? ” she interrogated in 
a tone of raillery. The knowledge of this inclines me to 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


167 


a belief, that we are inhuman. We had better surrender 
our hearts to your first onslaught. If your conquest so 
easily attained depreciate our value, we only plague our own 
hearts by our own acts, and you are innocent in the matter, 
and cannot be blamed.” 

‘‘ My Chevalier without a heart ? ” she continued, gazing 
at him lovingly. Do you really suffer ? You must let me 
gaze fully into your face, that I may read in it the full ex- 
tent of the torture ; my diagnosis may enable me to apply 
the proper remedies to allay the pain. It is the same hand- 
some face I first beheld in Morgan ville,” she resumed, “ some- 
what more serene, naturally it should be thus — consid- 
ering the more mature age you have arrived at since. ’T is 
your eyes that speak of an abnormal state. How lustrous 
they are ! Their brilliancy denotes an ailment — a fit of 
love ! A serious one at that ! ” she added, archly. “ Yes, 
you need a remedy that will at least allaj" the feverish un- 
certainty. My Esculapian knowledge in such cases being 
limited, I must first consult authorities in the matter be- 
fore I prescribe.” 

“ Why not consult the patient himself, dear Helen,” re- 
joined Van Alden in a tender voice. Is he not the best 
authority in such matters?” 

Helen felt that her attempt at raillery had not succeeded. 
She felt that her face must be to him like an open mirror, 
in which he could distinctly read the awakening of her 
womanhood, the blossoming of her heart, the unfolding of 
her young life. She met his gaze, and it penetrated her in- 
nermost soul. She could not help if her eyes shone bright 
and loving upon his face ; that her cheeks glowed in crim- 


i68 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


son. He held her hand in his, and she could not prevent 
its tremor. She felt she would like to say, I love ! ” But 
she seemed to shrink from words tliat could only satisfy 
her heart with the sensation of his presence. 

The blissful silence was at last broken by Van Alden, 
who asked : My darling Helen, what changes the wilder- 
ness of the heart into an Eden ? ” 

Helen blushed, and did not answer at once. 

Van Alden, aware that she understood the question, 
asked : Why not answer me, dear ? Must I be the inter- 
preter of your thoughts ? Is it ” — 

Love ! ” whispered Helen, softly. 

‘^Yes!” ’T is love!” exclaimed Van Alden, raptur- 
ously. “Is not love beautiful? And you, who are so 
beautiful, can you comprehend the love you inspire ? ” 

“ Love engendered by the beauty of the person, — a tran- 
sitoiy, perishable substance — is it not a flimsy foundation 
upon which to build the felicities of life?” rejoined Helen, 
looking serene and thoughtful. 

“ And what would you love ? ” interrogated Van Alden, 
“ The mind, the character ? Love,” he continued, “ is an 
enchantment created by the beauty of a thing not in our 
possession, which we desire to appropriate, to possess our- 
selves. For what purpose? For the delectation of our 
eyes, flrst ; the heart and mind, afterwards. I spoke of the 
eyes first, because of their susceptibility for the beautiful 
only. Our eyes, will they not pass by all other objects un- 
moved, be they even of the greatest merit for quality ? 
The mind ; quality of character brought to our special no- 
tice may awaken honor and respect ; association with the 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


169 


possessor of them, may engender our appreciation, even our 
affection ; but never love ! the great love I love you with,” 
he exclaimed, clasping her lovingly in his embrace. ‘‘We 
fondle what we love,” he resumed, tenderly. “ Could we 
fondle deformity, full to the brim even of the noblest 
traits ? 

“ That the mind is an ennobling possession, I do not deny ; 
but is it a greater blessing than beauty ? I think not. 
Those who have both (looking into her. face significantly), 
who are doubly gifted, know not to answer the question. 
They are beloved, and are conscious of the result, but can- 
not dive into the mystery, in the fountain from which love 
sprung. Love only is the poetry of life ; affection but its 
prose.” 

“ I must confess,” rejoined Helen, “ that the emotions of 
the heart are incompreliensible. I feel that I cannot with- 
stand its omnipotent behest. All this fills me with an awe, 
of which lam unable to divest myself. Grazing into your 
dear face, I feel that I am not insensate,” — Helen paused 
suddenly. Her face and neck were dyed with a crimson 
hue ; bending her head forward, she laid it upon 
Van Alden’s shoulder, trying in vain to check the tears of 
happiness from gushing forth. 

“ Heaven bless you, my sweet, my darling Helen ! ” ex- 
claimed Van Alden, encircling her trembling waist with an 
arm scarcely less tremulous. Their first long, passionate 
kiss spoke of the intensity of their love. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


170 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

Squire McLane was, as we would call him, a sporting 
associate. His greatest delight consisted in coursing ; and 
if anyone beat his favorite greyhounds, the victor was sure 
to be pressed to dinner. 

He was an out-of-the-way man, such as one does not often 
meet. Though rough in his exterior, he had a polished 
mind. 

He was a compound of contradictions ; he would talk of 
persons of rank with contempt, and be flattered by any 
approaches they made to an acquaintance with him ; he 
affected to despise learning, while it was evident he had 
sedulously cultivated it. 

He dressed carelessly, whilst his servants, even, had to 
pay scrupulous care to their attire. He was a man of good 
fortune, farming most of his estate himself. Few persons 
could do it better. 

He was a kind master to his laborers, a considerate land- 
lord to his tenants, who looked to him as a friend. A most 
generous host, jovial, and, therefore, a delightful companion 
to the Judge and Van Alden. 

Mrs. McLane was a gentle, subdued lady, who spoke 
little ; having surrendered her opinion to her husband long 
ago. She was kind, and impressed all with her motherly 
kindness and attention. 

Helen could not fail to enjoy her sojourn under such an 
hospitable roof, the abode in which she had plighted her 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


171 

troth, and in which she spent the first days of that blissful 
life. Tliese almost idyllic days were to Helen full of great 
happiness. During Van Alden’s absence on sport with the 
Squire and the Judge, she would stroll with her young 
cousins, jump hedges, try the speed of her feet with theirs. 

Guests being invited, evening enjoyments would alter- 
nate with games, dancing and music ; and, the day over, 
she would retire to rest in a happy state of mind, 
feeling thankful to the Giver of all good, and awake in the 
morning with emotions of pleasure and delight, because of 
another happy day coming. 

Van Alden and Helen both were crossing the meadows, 
which led towards the trout stream in the not far distance. 
The meadows were white with daisies, those stars of earth, 
twinkling in the grass. Soon they approached the winding 
stream. The trout were rising in every direction, while 
moor-hens were silently stealing away to their hidden re- 
treats, and willow-wrens and sedge-birds gave their notes of 
alarm. 

How charming are the banks of a trout stream, thought 
Helen. Here and there old willow pollards bent over the 
stream, upon which the flies settled, and dropping upon the 
water ai’e seized by the trout which harbor among the 
decaying roots of the tree. 

The river derived its force from the mountain torrent 
which brawls and foams amongst the rocks ; and the ob- 
struction it meets reminding one of the violent passion of 
man. A clear, placid and unruffled stream, on the contrary, 
is a fit resemblance of those who, pursuing the even tenor 
of llieir way, fall gently into the ocean of life, undisturbed 


172 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


hj bad passion and unsullied by mixing with the turbid 
waters of the world. 

They now ascended the liighest elevation that perched 
down upon the river below. To climb the pathway, a steep 
incline, rugged in some places, required a steady gait. 
Helen’s agility astonished her lover. Tlie view was far- 
reaching and beautiful. The valley below, with the crystal 
stream. Beyond, the cultivated fields, as far as their eyes 
could reach ; the pastures full with grazing cattle, moving 
hither and thither. The farm houses dotting the plain 
were at their feet ; and upon all the sun shone in glorious 
refulgence. 

This was a still life before them. The blooming fields 
and green woods in the distance was a picture that entranced 
the eye, and brouglit to the mind an inner life. 

The acute mind of the sceptic. Van Alden, was softened 
by the view of nature’s sublime work — by the sweet songs 
of the birds, the fragrance of the pines, and by all the 
thousand deliglits nature presents in appealing to the senses 
of man. 

Both were seated, shaded from the burning sun by the 
thick branches covered with summer folliage overhanging 
their heads. Involuntarily his thoughts were directed to 
the existence and the attributes of our Creator — ^by refiect- 
ing on the beauty and variety of his works. How different 
were his thoughts from those which had occupied his mind 
ill the crowded city, so full of life — the life he loved. He 
felt that there was an omnipotent, benevolent cause for all 
he saw, that there are objects in men’s lives — nobler ones 
than the mere pursuits of daily enjoyments, in which the 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


173 


eye and senses participate, leaving the heart untouched ; 
objects which should bring to our later, maturer life the 
consciousness of having acquitted ourselves honestly of our 
mission in this world. 

Van Alden gazed on that lovely being seated by his side, 
her queenly head resting on his shoulder, with her gaze re- 
turning his inquiringly, because of his thoughtful silence. 
A being, ready to entwine her life with his own, to belong 
to him in body and soul, joyfully offering him the felicity 
she brings, and looking to him for her own. He searched 
within the most innermost recesses of his heart and soul for 
any impure speck that could make him unworthy of her 
gifts, so that he may cast to the winds what there may be 
left of his former self. 

Clasping her to his heart, he exclaimed tenderly : My 

beloved, my darling Helen ! You seek my thoughts. 
They are not to you the mirror that yours are to me. Men 
are like a craft tossed upon the waves of life ; they receive 
dents and scratches, and become soiled by the slime stag- 
nating in the shallow waters on which they glide. Woman’s 
love must lead them into calmer and purer waters, and 
thereby restore their staunchness and brightness. Your 
love, dear Helen, has accomplished this with me, and I only 
await your piloting me towards a harbor where you shall 
reign as my queen.” 

“And where I shall pay dutiful homage to my king,” re- 
plied Helen, softly, “ and to whom, on his return from the 
cares of State, I will bid a welcome with my smiles, which 
are, as you would make me believe, the sunshine you love 
to bask in.” 


174 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


‘‘Oh, my darling! My darling!” she suddenly burst 
forth, “ my smiles — will they always be to you the same ? 
If the eye is susceptible to the beautiful only, and that 
magnet fails — what then ? ” she asked, gazing wistfully into 
his face. 

“ Then the passionate love of youth will be replaced by 
the mellowed and more intensified love of mature years,” 
rejoined Yan Alden, imprinting a tender kiss upon her 
lips. 

The kiss and his loving words reassured her heart. 

Lovers’ unison of heart and soul produce colored visions 
of a future life, based upon their present feelings. Could 
they base one upon a permanent scheme that the future 
may not destroy ? 

Helen knew that the world is not a palace in which 
lovers glide smoothly through life. 

Poetry and romance were with her things noble, beau- 
tiful — but only to dream about. The everyday working of 
human life sufficed her. She preferred the noble mind of 
stern reality to the morbid elegance of an imaginative soul 
producing less poetical results. To Yan Alden she attributed 
the quality of mind she loved in man. He had turned his 
helm to her, that she should pilot it into a channel of happi- 
ness. She felt that she could lead him there, and she 
accepted the trust joyfully. 

The last few weeks had carried Helen upon a stream 
whose swift current she could not resist, and upon which 
she had glided nearer the floodgates that draw everything 
within their reach. 

Her life now was full of happiness. The love that had 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


175 


drawn her to Van Alden was little less than an idolizing 
sentiment that, if disenchantment should be her lot, must 
bring to her untold misery. 


176 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 

The October sun shone brightly upon New York. The 
foliage in Central Park had changed into golden hues, 
which were decorating its avenues and foot paths. The 
fresh wind blowing from the northwest tossed them into 
the air and sent them prancing along the roads that were 
traversed by a few pedestrians only. 

On one of the foot-paths the blind artist paced thought- 
fully to and fro — his daily exercise, that should help to 
mend his failing health. He had nigh succumbed to the 
terrible blow that had struck his declining years. 

The months following his great and sudden bereavement 
dragged their slow length along. The days were joyless to 
him, and but for the consciousness of a duty awaiting him, 
he would not have cared to resist the onslaught upon a life 
that had lost all zest, and was but a burden. He yearned 
to join his beloved child in those regions where it is said 
they need never separate. 

I think the hour draws nigh to return liorne,’^ he said, 
feebly, addressing his attendant, adding, I feel somewhat 
tired.” 

His bent form and venerable appearance, the vacant gaze 
of his eyes, and the sad expression of his face stirred the 
sympathetic look of the passer-by. 

On reaching his home, he found Martini awaiting him, 
an unusual occurrence at that time of day — as he thought — 
that must have some import. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


177 


“ My dear friend,” the sculptor addressed him ; I am 
the bearer of news, such as you have been patiently waiting 
for. Van Alden has returned from abroad. I read of his 
return in this morning’s paper. They announce his be- 
trothal to a beautiful young lady.” 

The blind artist seemed startled. 

I will read to you the particulars, if you wish to hear 
them,” resumed Martini. 

The blind artist nodding his assent, the former read as 
follows : 

‘^Mr. Frank Van Alden, the junior partner of the well- 
known banking house of Van Alden & Co., who has been 
abroad for the past few months, has returned. We are au- 
thorized to announce the gentleman’s engagement to Miss 
Helen Powell, the beautiful and accomplished niece of 
Judge Brown, of Morgan ville. The nuptials will be sol- 
emnized in the month of December. We congratulate the 
happy pair and wish them felicity.” 

The tidings of Van Alden’s return had brought a sad 
smile of satisfaction to the blind artist’s face, which had now 
changed into a stern expression. 

Is she more beautiful and accomplished than my poor 
child has been?” he muttered. ^‘No! a thousand times 
no ! ” he vociferated. Only that his affianced enjoys the 
prerogative of wealth, and therefore caste. She is not the 
poor girl whose heart and trust he could rob with impu- 
nity!” he exclaimed bitterly; ‘‘therefore he bargains for 
her with his name. Only in betraying and crushing Clare, 
he failed to count the cost to himself.” 


178 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


After a moment’s reflectioiij he resumed : A thought 
dawns within my mind, worth its weight in gold. Let me 
gather my senses. Yes, yes!” A wild joy overspread his 
face, as he continued: ‘‘A passion has taken possession of 
that man, that if thwarted must kindle a fierce tempest in 
his heart, and bring to him the bitter, galling drops with 
which he had delectated his victim. 

‘‘ I would rather torture him than take his life 1 Wliere 
does this young woman live?” he asked the sculptor. “ Dis- 
cover her whereabouts, then bring me to her, and I will — 
No, no I” he murmured thoughtfull 3 ^ “ Stab her, too ? Be- 
cause she succumbed to his seductive arts, that made even a 
victim of mj poor, poor child 1 And 3 "et — I must wound 
her! Only the wound I must inflict shall carry with it 
healing balm. The noble traits, the belief in the worthiness 
of a man are the prime incentives that win the honest love 
of an honest woman,” he soliloquized. ^‘Kob the lover of 
the mask that covers his hideousness, and his true appari- 
tion will stun her, ’t is true, but likewise undermine the 
very foundation her love is built upon, and be to her the 
source of thankfulness for having escaped an impending 
doom. 

Yes! Thus it shall be! I will meet her and warn 
her of the viper she has taken to her bosom — a viper that 
will sting her to death, her charms once relaxing their hold 
upon it.” 

“ Should she be worldly — akin to his heart — and cares 
not for his past love intrigues (such she may call them), 
neither for a broken heart that is not her own, deride and 
scorn a sympathy she has not sought, and proudly answers 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


• 179 


that she is to be his wife and not his mistress ? asked Mar- 
tini, trembling with agitation as he spoke. 

“ She shall then learn that my scorn rests upon her like- 
wise, and my hands shall be the better steeled to avenge my 
child’s honor ! ” replied the blind artist fiercely. 


i8o 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXXIY. 

On Van Alden’s return to New York he had learned of 
Clare’s death. He felt bewildered ; it was not the result he 
had anticipated. His uncle related to him all the circum- 
stances connected with her sad end. 

Frank felt keenly the resentment with which his uncle 
spoke, because of the deception upon her father. 

Would you have advised me to make her my wife?” he 
asked, with bitterness in his tone. I confessed to you 
everything. You must at least do me the justice and admit 
that I endeavored to soften the blow, and inflict as little 
pain as possible. I however omitted to mention to you that, 
in order to spare her the dread and sense of shame, I had 
informed her father that we were secretly married, and that 
it must remain a secret until the necessity for it had ceased 
to exist.” 

Frank felt sorry, very sorry, and sincerely wislied that 
matters had turned out differently; that Clare were still 
alive, and would now be living where he had comfortably 
placed her, or anywhere else she might have chosen. 

Vain regrets ! Could he recall her to life ? No ! What 
use then brooding over her death, the responsibility of which 
must be placed more to her unreasonable and unnatural 
grief than to his intent. Van Alden became aware of the 
blind artist’s and the child’s whereabouts; that he — Clare’s 
father — had spurned his uncle’s offer to befriend him. In 
fact that he had repuised every approachment. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. i8i 

It is then best to leave them alone, for the present at 
least, thought he. 

Jack Wilmot had informed Van Alden of Martini’s re- 
turn to New York, and of the latter’s inquiries concerning 
him. 

“Take care, Frank!” Wilmot had said. “That fellow 
has not forgiven you for having alienated the crayon artist’s 
affections. I suppose you are no longer blocking his way, 
since you are engaged to the handsome woman Miss Powell 
is reported to be. You are a lucky dog, Frank ; by Jove, 
you are !” 

“ How long since that Martini has returned to the States,” 
inquired Van Alden of his friend, paying no attention to 
his enthusiastic outburst. 

“I met him for the first time in July; since then occa- 
sionally in society,” replied Wilmot. “ He has the reputa- 
tion of being one of our foremost sculptors, and is received 
in the best houses.” 

“ He will then have an opportunity of meeting me ; be- 
sides, he knows where I can be found,” rejoined Van Alden 
with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. 


i 82 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

Helen’s desire to see something of the world had been 
fully gratified. 

Her lover’s tender care, his attention to every detail 
which could enhance the pleasure of the journey ; his expe- 
rience, the knowledge of things she would most care to see, 
and his dear presence, all were conducive to make her trip 
a most delightful one. 

Helen had penned to Mrs. Loewenhaupt the many im- 
pressions she had received during her travels. 

I am delighted with Paris as a city, she had written ; 
likewise with its people. There is an elegance of taste and 
love for the graceful, about them, which is certainly to be 
found nowhere else. It is not confined to the rich and 
great, but may be traced through almost every order or class 
of society, even down to the humblest. Every lady you 
meet is, as the French say. Men chaussee — Men gauUe^ 
with ornaments, if they do not match exactly her dress, 
are sure to accord with it. The majority of the ladies dress 
their hair with all the neatness and care possible. An air 
of elegance or neatness is, as I think, the most striking 
characteristic of the street costumes of the French. All 
the little minor matters of the toilet appear to be sedulously 
cared for. It is very rare to see women outrageously 
dressed in any way, and if one does, the probabilities are 
that she is not a French woman. All these impressiotis are 
extremely pleasing to the observant eye of a stranger. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


183 


The manners of the French of all classes are very agree- 
able. My attention being specially drawn to a woman 
selling fruit, I noticed her handing to an urchin customer a 
sou worth of plumis. The manner she did it could be a 
lesson to many a refined woman. 

Frank bought a bunch of roses from a street vender ; it 
was arranged in a manner that would make it fit to come 
from the hands of the most skillful floral decorator. I 
noticed her little stock in trade set off with such felicity in 
the mixture of colors and the graduation of shape as made 
me stand to gaze more delightedly than I ever had before. 

What I most admire of society here, is the entire absence 
of ceremony ; that absence of constraint, and even tedious- 
ness of all kinds, which renders French manners so agree- 
able. 

Society here is stripped of the ostentatious self-seeking 
etiquette which I perceived among the English, and even 
among many of our own people. The daily companionship 
is therefore enjoyed with a pleasant ease. The degree in 
which this is the case can only be guessed at by those who 
have the opportunity to mingle amongst them. 

We spent three weeks in paris — the emporium of the 
world’s fashion. 

From Switzerland Helen wrote : 

This country reminds me somewhat of Scotland. In 
landscape and scenic subjects the regions of Alps and lakes, 
of mountain passes, glaciers and pastoral valleys, picturesque 
old towers, hamlets and chalets, avalanches, alpine bridges, 
torrents, chamois and lammergeyers are exhaustless. The 
difficulty is, what to write about and what to omit. 


184 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


The endless variety of these scenes, beautiful and inter- 
esting as they are individually, would fatigue, even as much 
as one’s imagination may be called into play. 

Among the views I have been particularly struck with, 
is the ‘‘Wild Kirchlein,” or Hermitage. Tell’s Cliapel. 
with the lake and Alps. The Wetterhorn, the view of the 
Mount Pilate from Brunig, and the junction of the Rhine 
and Tarnina. 

After the numerous views we have seen of Mount Blanc, 
we can still admire the Monarch of Mountains, as seen here 
from the village of Chamouni. 

The passage of Wengen-Alp into the Grindelwald, was 
one of the most interesting parts of our tour. 

Imagine us, dear friend, seated near a blazing log of pine, 
in midsummer, in one of the inns, with a dish of roast 
chamois and rye bread on the table. Rich cream, with the 
very flavor of the flowers on which the cows were fed. 
Tired and hungry, we feasted with the greatest of relish on 
these luxuries of the Alps. The banquet closed witli a 
glass of what is called the “Nectar of the Alps” — Kirchen- 
wasser^ of which Uiicle and Frank partook ; a beverage 
that is said to be an antidote to the cold and fatigue en- 
countered in a journey through these regions. 

I felt particular!}^ interested in the only daughter of 
“ mine host,” a mountain beauty who had been betrothed 
this very day. 

The happy lovers were seated in the further end of the 
room. With what rapture must she listen, as he (pre- 
sumably) lays down the plans of their future life, and 
presses her to “ name the day when she will consent to light 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


185 


his chalet with her smiles.” It must have been his ques- 
tion, for nothing else could liave added so much to her 
])eauty and embarrassment ; and it seemed to me that she 
ingeniously evaded the same, but in a manner that increased 
her lover’s importunity. She hesitated, but at last her 
scruples overcome, she must have named the day and hour, 
for a thousand anticipations of happy years flushed her 
cheeks, and must have likewise fluttered round the heart of 
the Alpine maid. 

Their thoughts were manifestly too big for utterance, for 
they sat looking into each other’s eyes silent, and, as I have 
no doubt, feeling happy. They, however, soon parted, and 
with the speed of the bouquetin the Alpine lover retraced 
his steps, while the newly betrothed follows his shadow as 
he flits along, with feelings which at once seemed to delight 
and distract her spirit. 

Gazing at them, I pictured to myself their coming life ; 
the Alpine’s life, of which I have often read; when, as her 
husband, he will go forth in a cloudless sky to follow his 
daily vocation, though the wind may sweep howling through 
the gorge. Of the thoughts and fears that must beset her 
when the elements let loose,” foreshadow a danger he 
may encounter; that he must ford torrents, surmount 
snowy ramparts to reach his home again. With what a 
throbbing heart will she not watch every approach to their 
chalet until she joyfully espies his familiar form, fervently 
offering thanks to Him who has vouchsafed his safe return. 
Or, will she watch in vain for his return? Eventually, 
only to behold the wraith of her husband. 

Since I have learned to love, lovers are the protegee of 


i86 VAN ALDEN, JR. 

my thoughts, and, therefore, I mentioned this special episode 
of my travels. 

Helen, on her return to England, had paid Lady Darvey 
a farewell visit. 

“ Brother sends his sincere regards to you, dear Helen,’’ 
Lady Darvey had said to her. ‘^He left for India on a 
two years’ trip, and anticipates meeting you in the States 
on his journey homeward.” 

“ Ethel ? ” said Lady Darvey, to Helen’s inquiry, She 

is engaged to Lord , or, rather, to his twenty thousand a 

year. At times I can’t blame her. Poor thing! She 
would not marry the man she loved, because of his poverty ; 
and will marry the man she does not love, because of his 
wealth. 

You, dear Helen,” she continued, kissing her affection- 
ately, have chosen the crown of love — the noblest sover- 
eignty a woman can choose. God bless you, my dear girl, 
and grant you the happiness you so well deserve.” 

You must bring Helen to us again next year, Mr. Van 
Alden,” echoed the voices of Lord and Lady Darvey, on 
their leaving. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


187 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

At one of the windows of the Fifth Avenue Hotel stood 
Helen, apparently looking upon the throng of people 
passing by. 

It was a bright October afternoon ; many ladies were 
sauntering along this popular thoroughfare, where they are 
sure to meet friends — gentleman or lady — by chance or by 
appointment. They are sure of gratifying their eyes by 
gazing at beauty and fashion ; their tongues with charitable 
or uncharitable criticism — how well or how horridly she is 
dressed or looks ; and, best of all, obtain the needful exercise 
that brings a healthful glow of color to their pallid cheeks. 

Helen’s lovely face would have impressed the observant 
eye, that her thoughts just then were not in keeping with 
her eyes that were gazing, apparently, below. 

No woman, be she even of a frivolous and thoughtless 
nature, will be spared the inquietude of the mind which 
an impending change to a sphere that shall fill her whole 
future life with happiness or misery must bring. 

She had recalled to memory the following lines : 

From love as men profess 
Who to charms are easy prey ; 

Fair maid, you must beware ! 

Had’st better keep away. 

’T is not love, but passion 
That stirs the fickle heart ! 

It will end with possession 

And bring you, grief— smart. 


i88 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


How foolish to plague lier mind? What need she fear? 
she reasoned with herself. She does not dream of a rose- 
colored existence, for she is aware that life alternates in 
lights and shades. She will be satisfied with the lights of 
love, an honest, good man brings her, which outweigh the 
shades the many vicissitudes of life carry with them. 
Thank Heaven ! Frank is a good, honest and noble-minded 
man ! Thus soliloquised Helen, endeavoring thereby to 
tranquilize her vague fears. 

Helen, since her return to New York, had on various 
occasions missed her lover’s wonted high spirit. 

To her question as to the cause, he would reply, with a 
caress : ‘‘ Why, my dear, ’t is your imagination, nothing 
else and attempt a gaiety of manner, that seemed to her 
unnatural, affecting her own buoyancy of spirits. 

Suddenly leaving the window, she entered the room in 
which Mrs. Betts was busily plying her needle. 

Taking a seat by her side, she said : “ Whilst I assist you, 
dear Marion, you must talk to me to help while the time 
away.” 

‘‘ Don’t crowd j^ourself in here, dear child ! ” exclaimed 
Mrs. Betts. You had better take a seat in yonder chair ; 
it won’t do to squeeze yourself in here and destroy the folds 
of your dress that are so becoming to you. Y ou must look 
your best this afternoon/’ she continued, with a smile, 
‘^old eyes are sharper than young ones, and an old man’s 
tongue will wag about women’s looks and their general ap- 
pearance without stint. 1 would rather stand the scrutiny 
of a dozen young than one old man,” she added, mischiev- 
ously. The least the sci'utiny of a widower who failed to 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


189 

marry a second time because he thought that there is no 
woman living who could replace the treasure he had lost.” 

I am informed to the contrary of wliat you maintain,” 
rejoined Helen ; that widowers, with their sad experience 
of a first wife care not to attempt a second experiment. 
Really, you make me nervous because of the impending 
inspection I am about to undergo. I may, after all, become 
a rejected candidate for matrimonial honors ! ” 

A familiar knock on the door of Helen’s sitting room 
apprised her that the moment of the ordeal, as Mrs. Betts 
insinuated, had arrived. 

On Van Alden’s entrance, accompanied by his uncle, the 
former taking Helen’s hand into his own, introduced her to 
the old gentleman, saying : Uncle Reuben, this is my dear 
Helen, to whom I have no doubt you will yield a conspic- 
uous place in your heart.” 

Helen gazed into the old gentleman’s face with an 
expression of indescribable sweetness, that could not fail to 
charm him. 

His quick glance recognized her high personal attractions. 
Her attire, elegant, but without the least pretence for dis- 
play, enhanced the symmetry of her superb figure, assured 
him that she was a woman well fitted to grace the home of 
a Van Alden. 

His eyes kindled with pleasure as he grasped her out 
stretched hand : I bid the bride of my nephew a welcome 
to a nook in my heart,” he said.” 

I am glad to have met you, rejoined Helen, pleased 
with his cordiality, and will be most happy if you will let 
me share with Frank in your affections.” 


igo VAN ALDEN, Jr' 

My dear child,” rejoined the old aristocrat, pleasantly, 
“you will stand a good chance ; for women are always suc- 
cessful competitors for our affections; ’t is their vocation in 
life. 

Turning to Frank, he continued, humorously, “I always 
knew you to be possessed of keen eyes ; now I am thor- 
oughly convinced of it, and must congratulate you on your 
conquest.” 

“ Do not let this be altogether a one-sided affair,” re- 
joined Frank, smiling. “I must insist on some recognition 
for myself as well. If from a parental-like concern,” he 
continued, playfully, “you fear to shock my inborn mod- 
esty — a concern you failed to entertain for Helen — you must 
promise me, at least, that you will at tlie earliest opportu- 
nity — myself absent — speak to her about the good equalities 
her future lord an.d master is blessed with ; the bad ones 
you need not mention ; she must find them out herself.” 

“ Have I shocked your modesty ? ” asked the old aristo- 
crat, addressing Helen with a mirthful twinkle in his eyes. 
“ You would then be an exception to the rule. I am told 
that our modern young ladies feel elated whenever their 
personal attractions are lauded. For my nephew’s mod- 
esty,” he continued, “1 feci no concern. ’T is an article 
he and the rest of men are wanting in ; but I sincerely hope 
that he is possessed at least of such qualities that will make 
him a good and loving husband, which is most essential to 
woman’s happiness. Let it not be with you two, a question 
as to who loves best now, but who will endeavor best to pre- 
serve and nourish that love ; so you both can partake of .its 
blessing throughout life. You must endeavor,” he now said 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


191 

impressively, ‘‘ to bring your flute in unison of tune, and 
base the plans and visions of your future upon a perma- 
nency that will make your home a temple in which you both 
can worship.” 

‘‘ Yon, my dear child,” he said, addressing Helen, “ are 
a magnet with the power of drawing toward yourself the 
husband you love ; I have no doubt that you two will be- 
come a happy pair, for you are as well matched a pair as 
ever ran in double harness,” he added laughingly. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


ig2 


CHAPTER XXXYIL 

Life’s journey brings to us all, high or low born, rich or 
poor, some more or less happy days ; times when we are ob- 
livious to the cares besetting mankind. And when the cloudy, 
murky atmosphere of later years hovers over us, memory 
brings back the bright sunshine that illumined the happy 
past, helping us to reconcile ourselves with the less happy 
present. 

Youth is blissful, and looks for continuous sunshine. Let 
the happy present be enjoyed to its full. Could only 
expostulation successfully impress them not to destroy the 
happy future by a wanton misuse of the present. 

To Helen the days were full of perfect happiness. If 
she did not believe in the legends and gilded fancy of youth, 
yet she felt that she loved, and that she was beloved, and 
that the future could not fail to bring her the fulfillment of 
the modest wishes essential to her happiness. 

Helen’s sojourn in New York was a continuous round of 
pleasure. 

She soon became aware of Frank’s position in society, 
and noticed the favoritism he enjoyed, and the admiration 
with which he was looked upon by her sex. 

She felt pleased because of her own cordial reception and 
social triumph ; more for Frank’s sake than her own. 
Whenever his eyes would rest upon her with pride, a glow 
of pleasure would overspread her countenance, and she 
would smile upon him lovingly. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


193 


Judge Brown had personally accompanied Mrs. Loring 
and her son to Morgan ville. After placing them comfort- 
ably in one of his own cottages, he returned to New York. 

Tlie Judge and the old aristocrat soon became warm 
friends. Both had a fatherly interest and concern in the 
child of their brother and sister, long since deceased. 

The Judge was aware of the eminent position occupied 
by the Van Aldens, and rejoiced at the brilliant future 
awaiting his beloved niece. He felt pleased at being able 
to inform the old aristocrat that Helen brought to her fu- 
ture husband, not only the treasures of a pure mind and 
heart, but likewise a considerable fortune, to which commu- 
nication the old aristocrat had replied that her fortune was 
of no concern to Frank. 

It was Helen’s desire to be married in the church in 
which her lamented parents had been united in holy matri- 
mony, and by the venerable minister, still living, who had 
united them twenty-two years ago. 

It was therefore arranged that Helen should return to 
Morganville, to remain until she left it a wife. 

On the eve of Helen’s departure for home, and when 
about entering the Fifth Avenue Hotel, she was startled by 
an exclamation of surprise uttered by a lady. 

Turning, she met the lady’s gaze fully, and a gleam of 
joy o’erspread her lovely face. 

♦Darting forward and taking the outstretched hand into 
her own, she exclaimed : Gertie ! is it you ? Your own dear 
self ? Do I meet you once more ?” Then turning to her 
uncle, who was with her at the time, she asked in a joyful 
tone: ‘^Do you remember Gertie Howard? I am sure 


194 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


Gertie remembers you ; do you not ? ” she inquired of the 
latter, who, answering in the affirmative, said pleasantly : 
‘‘Have I not often partaken of the sweets the Judge used 
to smuggle into the precincts of Mrs. Loewenhaupt’s semi- 
nary ? The good lady being so averse to sweets, and her 
pupils so fond of them ! ” she added with a laugh. 

“No further explanations in the street,” said Helen; 
“ step in here and come to my room, for I must speak to 
you, Gertie, and hear all about yourself, after these many 
years of separation. No — not tomorrow — now. For, tomor- 
row we leave for home,” she said, coaxingly, taking Gertie 
by the arm. 

Helen now noticed the lovely child that accompanied her 
friend, which, from timidity, had taken refuge behind Ger- 
tie, but had now stepped forward. 

“Are you married, and is this your child ? ” interrogated 
Helen, gazing at the little girl admiringly. “ This cannot 
be ! ” she exclaimed, ere her friend could reply. 

“No, dear Helen, I am not married,” replied Gertie. 

Gertie Howard and Helen, when schoolmates, had formed 
a girlish attachment for each other. 

Gertie is a tall, graceful girl, with a thoughtful face ; one 
that gains in attractiveness the of tener one sees it. It denotes 
strength of character by the firmly set mouth. Her dark 
eyes could nevertheless gaze on you softly, and impress you 
with the thought that their owner could feel deeply and 
tenderly. 

Having entered her apartment, Helen embraced her 
friend affectionately; then scrutinizing her closely for a 
moment, said : “You have changed little since I saw you 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


195 


last — four years ago. For three long years I have heard 
nothing from you; and now to meet so unexpectedly! 

^'Are you living in New York — in this gay metropolis?” 
inquired Helen, after they had seated themselves and had 
given the child in charge of Mrs. Betts. It will be my 
fate to reside in New York in the near future,” she added. 

‘‘No, Gertie,” Helen continued, noticing Gertie’s in- 
quiring glance. You must speak of yourself first ; it will 
interest me more than speaking of myself. Later I will 
gratify the interest you may take in your former school- 
mate ; an interest I am sorry to say you failed to demonstrate 
by your long silence,” she added reproachfully. 

“ In your answer to my last,” rejoined Gertie, you in- 
formed me of having left school to enter society. I thought 
the anticipated enjoyments were not conducive to the con- 
tinuance of school girl correspondence. I am really sorry 
now,” she added apologetically, that I terminated our 
correspondence, since I find you the same dear girl as 
of old. 

Dear ! dear ! ” she resumed after a moments’ pause, 
how wonderfully you have changed otherwise. So won- 
derfully!” 

Helen placing her hand upon her friend’s lips remarked 
playfully, enjoin you from speaking about me.” 

To please yon, I will obey,” rejoined Gertie pleasantly. 
Of what shall I speak first ? of the past or present ? The 
past, dear Helen, has been to me like it is with the many of 
our sex in my station of life. I have feasted on some girl- 
ish enjoyments, in an humbler way than yourself, of course, 
until I left home to enter upon the more serious pursuits 


196 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


of life. I arn now engaged in teaching in one of the public 
schools of New York. Life with me,” she continued, 
“ passes in an even tenor, bringing to me, if not exorbitant 
pleasures, at least a placid, calm, unruffled existence — 
which must sufflce. 

girlish dream, though, will soon be over,” she ad- 
ded, a blush rising to her face. ‘^’Tis no romance,” she 
remarked, noticing Helen’s eager, inquiring glance ; ‘‘ yet it 
may seem so to you. I am about to be married. You will 
be surprised to hear that the man whom I have learned to 
love, and who will make me his wife, loves me not as a 
woman covets that the man of her choice should.” 

Helen did not reply at once but gazed with wonder into 
her friend’s face. It was calm and tranquil, like one at 
peace with her heart and soul, and who looks forward to her 
coming life with no doubt or misgiving. At last she said, 
1 must say that you have aroused my curiosity in no small 
degree. If you ask me to interpret the meaning of wliat 
yon have said, I would answer that your intended husband 
must love hopelessly — that you succeeded in softening some- 
what the soreness of his heart, and that it has turned in 
sympathy to you.” 

“ The woman he loved is no more among the living,” 
replied Gertie. 

“1 comprehend you better now,” said Helen. He is a 
widower and has expended the wealth of his affection on 
the one he lost. The little girl with you, is she his child ?” 

Gertie shook her head. The woman he loved, loved 
another. The child with me is her offspring, which my 
affianced has adopted,” she replied. 


VAN ALDEN, JR.^ 


197 


‘‘Poor child ! So young and bereaved of both parents 
exclaimed Helen, the tears springing to her eyes. 

Had she not herself been bereaved likewise ? 

“ The child’s father lives,” said Gertie. 

“And has he abandoned it to strangers?” inquired Helen 
in amazement. “ I can understand you now. Tour intended 
husband takes care of the child of the woman he loved, 
whose father has forsaken it. A man who feels and acts 
thus, proves himself to be one of God’s noble creatures, into 
whose care a woman may implicitly trust her happiness. I 
can now comprehend your love and its romance. Having 
told me so much, I am inquisitive to know more.” 

“ I speak with reluctance of the sad history of the child’s 
mother, for it affects me whenever recalled to my memory,” 
replied Gertie. 

The reader will divine the story Gertie related to Helen. 

Not for one moment did Gertie surmise how closely 
Helen’s happiness was entwined with that of Clare’s be- 
trayer. 

“ Oh ! had I but known it,” lamented Gertie, later. 

Yes! later; ’tis always later that we know better and 
that we would have done better, if we had only known it 
sooner 1 

Helen listened with close attention to the history of a 
young and beautiful woman, who had loved not wisely but 
too well. 

“ That man ; the miserable, cruel wretch that he must 
be,” exclaimed Helen, in a voice full of indignation, “can 
no punishment reach him? Your affianced — ” Uttering 
the last words, Helen suddenly checked their flow. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


198 

A familiar knock at the door brought back to Helen’s 
face the bright color and happy smile. 

' Hastily approaching the door by which Van Alden now 
entered, she lovingly took liis liand and leading liim toward 
her friend, said in a happy manner, Let me introduce you 
to Mr. Frank Van Alden.” 

On hearing the name, Gertie’s face assumed a deathly 
pallor. Her hand that had been outstretched to grasp his, 
fell benumbed to her side. 

Reeling backward, as if struck by a thunderbolt, and 
looking aghast at Helen, she asked in a voice full of trepi- 
dation, ‘‘ Did you say Frank Van Alden ? ” 

Our hero looked with astonishment and bewilderment at 
the girl, whom the mere mention of his name had so 
strangely affected, and then gazed inquiringly at Helen for 
a solution of the scene. 

Helen had receded a few steps, amazement depicted on 
her countenance. 

When and where had Gertie met her lover, were the 
thoughts that flashed through her perplexed mind. A 
strange foreboding of a terrible something had taken pos- 
session of her. 

To her friend’s inquiry, ^^Did you say Frank Van 
Alden?” Helen nodded her head in the affirmative. 

Oh, my God ! My God ! ” exclaimed Gertie, burying 
her face in her trembling hands. 

Helen rushed towards lier friend, and with an appealing 
look and trembling voice, asked : Is it he f ” 

The door leading from Mrs. Betts’ room had opened, and 
the child emerging therefrom ran towards Gertie, but 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


199 


stopped suddenly, as if transfixed to the spot, and gazing 
intently into Van Alden’s bewildered face, ran towards him, 
exclaiming with a shout of joy, “ Father, dear father ! ” 

Van Alden was dumfounded. His eyes, fixed on Gertie, 
were full of scorn and resentment. 

A terrible friendship her’s must be, who could pour into 
a friend’s heart a poison that must destroy its happy repose. 
What is the meaning of all this ? Why has that woman 
sought his beloved and affianced bride, bringing with her 
the child — the unfortunate offspring of his youthful guilt? 
Who had sent her? Such were the thoughts darting 
through his brain. 

On hearing Helen’s cry of anguish, he thrust aside the 
child that had clasped his knee, and rushing towards her, 
uttered, in a voice that was full of tenderness, Do not, 
my love, condemn me unheard ! ” 

Helen, who had buried her death-like face on Mrs. Betts’ 
shoulder, bade him in‘^ voice that trembled with agitation, 
and with a gesture of her hand, Leave me.” 

Van Alden seemed rooted to the spot. ‘^Must I go 
without a hearing ? ” he asked in a voice that bespoke tlie 
anguish of his heart. 

He felt that it Avould be best to leave her jiresence now. 
Casting a glance of disdain on Gertie, he left the room in a 
dazed-like manner. 


200 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

It was a dark, chilly, rainy day. 

Helen was seated in her room, her trembling hands folded 
on her knees, with thoughts full of the last few months and 
days. Her dream was feverish, blurred by the anguish of 
the last day. A dreadful sense of unreality benumbed her 
spirit; she felt a wild longing to flee from its harassing 
pang. 

Mrs. Betts entered with a tray. Gazing at her sorrow- 
fully, she says : How pale you look, dear Helen ; you 

had better partake of this port wine I have brought you.” 

I cannot drink it ! no, I cannot,” uttered Helen, her 
voice choked with tears, even if my heart is chilled and 
faint — about to cease beating altogether.” 

^^The Judge, has he not yet returned?” inquired Mrs. 

* Betts, in an anxious voice. Had I not better send for a 
doctor ? ” 

‘^Do not fear, dear Marion, I will feel better after a 
while,” said Helen in response. We will not leave New 
York today as anticipated, perhaps tomorrow. I may feel 
better then. 

‘‘ Go to your room,” she continued, there, dear ; good, 
true Marion — go ! I will call you, should I want you. 
Just now I prefer to be left to myself.” 

Helen only now felt how well she had fared in the world ; 
that she had until now sailed smoothly upon its waters. 
The first storm that came had found her unprepared. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


201 


The happiness of a few months had led her into an abyss 
of misery. Love had brought sorrow to her life. 

Is this the result of having striven for the highest and 
the best ? All these months she had been drawn towards 
him. First he had awakened lier interest until, in spite of 
herself, she liad .grown to love him, and she had not been 
ashamed to own lier love with all tlie truth of which she 
was capable. How her soul had delighted in him, honored 
him. Not thinking him faultless — even full of imperfec- 
tions. Yet, a good man, honorable, full of noble sympa- 
thies. And she found him a libertine, guilty of a deliberate, 
cruel act ; the betrayer of the woman who had trusted her 
all into his keeping. All is over now! Her love must 
die — must be forgotten ; her beautiful dream of happiness 
must be blurred from memory. She had set up an idol ; 
but it is now shattered, and its fall has severed her very 
heart-strings. 

The Judge had urged her to grant Frank an interview, 
saying that she would not be just to herself should she con- 
demn him unheard. 

She read the letter Van Alden had sent her — only a few 
lines — in which he beseeched her to grant him an interview, 
even if she decided it should be the last. 

Helen had sent Frank a message naming the hour in 
which she would receive him. 

She felt how trying the ordeal would be. Does she love 
him still ? Her heart throbbed at the mere thought of 
seeing him again. Alas ! only for once, and then no more. 
She would have forgiven him could she believe Clare Gray 
to have been a frail woman. 


202 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


Oh ! My God ! How could it be ! Such women, do they 
die of grief because of betrayed love ? 

Helen was unselfish, brave, gentle and pure. She cared 
not .to enter the gates that are blurred, the pillars of which 
are rotten, unsafe, sure to crumble and crush the repose of 
her heart and soul beneath them. 

Hearing Van Alden’s familiar footstep, a tremor seized 
her. Her large, beautiful eyes stared at the door through 
which he must enter. She tried to steel herself for the 
coming ordeal. A second more and they stand face to 
face. 

Helen endeavored to appear calm and dignified. Van 
Alden looked aghast on noticing the cliange one short day 
had wrought in her face — beautiful as ever, but of a deathly 
pallor, with its haggard look. 

One would likewise have been struck by the expression 
of his own face, that now denoted utter hopelessness. He 
had been in love before, and was familiar with the signs of 
grief the tender passion brings forth ; but he had until now 
failed to divine such grief as her face revealed. 

Helen ! ” he at last murmured, tenderly. She gazed 
into his face, thrilled by the tone of his voice, tears rushing 
to her eyes; but she remained apparently calm and com- 
posed. 

Why have you not left me alone ? ” she uttered in a 
tremulous tone. You must have known that only misery 
must come to me from loving a man whose heart infiates 
with the dawn of morn, to collapse with the sinking sun ; 
who robs woman’s holiest, for his delectation ; who passes 
by all other objects unmoved because of his susceptibility 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 203 

for the beautiful ouly ; who only loves the ‘ beautiful love ’ 
that lasts ’til he tires of it ; a man — ” 

‘‘As you love heaven, hear me first!” exclaimed Van 
Alden, with quivering lips, unable to master his agitation. 
Do not recall words spoken to you in the hour in which 
my tongue knew no guile. 

“ I have no wish that you should believe me better than I 
am; nor have I the remotest intention of painting myself 
with clean brushes. Beside your pure heart mine must in- 
deed appear black. I have not spent my early life under 
the influence and loving care of parents, nor in the pursuit 
of serious aims. 

“ My youth and manhood even were schooled upon the 
race-course — called the world — I partook of the mess of 
gilded life that neither measure carefully gold nor discre- 
tion. To my youthful follies there was no barrier, no 
one checked their growth, nor curbed their indulgence. 
While leading such a life,” he continued, in a voice that be- 
trayed his agitation, “I — met — Clare. 

“You are informed of our unfortunate relationship,” he 
resumed after a painful silence ; “ of her death ; of the child, 
and as much of the truth as your school friend knew. I 
understand your nature well,” he continued in a tender 
voice,” else I would not have loved you as I do. I know 
that you must despise me, because of what you have heard. 
It is not of the past I would speak to you — only that you 
should believe that I am not as black as they would make me. 

“ ’T is of the future I must speak 1 Helen ! Dear Helen I ” 
he uttered, imploringly, “shall I not say ‘ quits’ to the past, 
and continue in the new life you have taught me ? I would 


204 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


honestly try to win your forgiveness for the past, for I love 
you — believe me, dear Helen, I love you sincerely ! My 
life henceforth would be — if not what yours has been and 
always will be — at least worthy of your love.” 

Perceiving Helen’s emotion, which his pleading words 
had called forth, he resumed : 

Lives are often shipwrecked through some misunder- 
standing, and from want of an explanation that could clear 
the clouds shadowing the present. 

Your informant could not have told you all ! That I was 
willing to share my fortune with Clare if I could not share 
my name ; not because of the obscurity of her own — but 
from want of love for her — without which both our lives 
would have been void of happiness. 

Blame me if you will, but do not condemn a life that 
is entwined with yours. Sacrificing me cannot amend my 
wrong to another, nor call her back to life.” 

Helen had followed with deep emotion and attention 
every word Van Alden had spoken. In her eyes, gazing on 
him, gleamed the love with which, alas! her heart was filled. 
For a moment she looked thoughtful, and seemed to waver 
with the answer that must decide her fate. 

At last, breaking the painful silence, she said : do not 

sacrifice you — I only sacrifice myself ; not in the sense you 
would have me, but by deadening my womanly love. It is 
better that I do it at once, than that my heart shall later die a 
slow and agonizing death. No, no 1 ” she continued in a 
tone of anguish, I must not think of fulfilling my engage- 
ment. For the indulgence of a short dream I would be 
obliged to stifie all that sanctifies life. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


205 


‘‘ I know you think this unnatural. Such a thought came 
to me when I heard you acknowledge your wrong and your 
pleadings. I do not know what men recognize as right. My 
heart and soul would never let me do it. I know in 
marrying you I could not expect from you the good for 
myself that brought despair and death to another woman. 
The knowledge of it would rob me of my peace of mind, 
and of all that the past has made dear and holy to me.” 

What a strange love yours must be, that can cast me 
off; that can strike such a blow! ” exclaimed Van Alden. 

It is impossible that you should adhere to your resolution. 
The feeling that draws us towards each other is far too 
strong to be overcome by mere will and separation 1 ” 

‘‘Yes, I did love you! I did,” said Helen, with downcast 
looks and a tremor in her voice ; “ but I must love you no 
longer ; I must overcome it ; we must separate. 

“Would you have me reveal to you all that burns so 
fiercely within me ? Must you urge my lips to utter the 
condemnation my mind heaps upon you ? Not because of 
the love-rage of youth that had burned its wick to ashes on 
attaining manhood. We women readily grant absolution 
to the follies of youth, contenting ourselves with the stead- 
ier flame of manhood. ’T is the perfidy of the man that 
appalls me ! Your manhood, too proud to repair the 
wrong perpetrated upon a woman, lowered itself to a de- 
ception upon an old blind father. 

“ Before God, and your conscience, Clare was your lawful 
wife ; and you abandoned her to shame ; offering her a mea- 
sure of gold. Your generosity dug her grave, and robbed 
that poor blind man of his child, the child of its mother ; 


2o6 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


and you, its father, heartlessly spurned it from you when, 
in its exulting joy at beholding you, called you ^ father.’ 

I could have forgiven much, but not the heartlessness 
you revealed! Your love for me ? If Ido not doubt its 
sincerity now, I must doubt its constancy. With the same 
sincerity you had pledged yourself to that unfortunate girl ! 
and your love proved, as you confess, a passion only. My 
name and station being less obscure, you offer me the strong 
security of the law of man. Can this vouchsafe happiness 
to me, knowing that you sacrificed the happiness, nay, the 
life of a woman who had a holy claim, if no more upon 
your love, at least upon your consideration and manhood. 

You have taught me a lesson I will not forget; it has 
afforded me an insight into your soul, that revealed to me 
the selfish love you are capable of.” 

Van Alden stood mute. His frame trembled with agita- 
tion. He knew not how to reply to her just reproaches. 
At last he exclaimed, passionately : How can I assure you 
that ever since the day we sat upon the cliff I have striven 
to be worthy of you— as you would have me. But, no ! 
you will not believe me,” he continued, sadly. Even were 
I to appeal to God, you would not believe me. 

‘‘And yet,” he resumed, after a ]3ause, “ you might trust 
me — if you only would ; and not shipwreck both our lives 
by your own act.” 

“ It cannot be — I dare not do it,” exclaimed Helen, hid- 
ing her face in her hands and striving to smother her ris- 
ing sobs. “ The sweetness of your love has gone from my 
heart and cannot come back to me again. Oh, Frank ! ” she 
continued in a tone of greater anguish than she had yet 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


207 


shown, I did not believe it at first, but now I feel how deep 
the dagger has pierced my heart. I could not live with 
you, for the face of that woman would step between our 
embrace, and chill its warmth. You would have me smile 
on you, and I could not, because of doubts and fears that 
would shadow my days. We must part, we must part,’’ re- 
iterated Helen, vainly endeavoring to conceal the anguish 
of her heart. 

A tremor had seized her, because of the import her un- 
swerving resolution carried with it. 

On beholding Yan Alden, who, the picture of. despair, 
had sunk into a seat, she felt as if her heart must relent ; and 
on the impulse of that feeling she added, softly : ‘^At least 
— at least for the present. Prove to me the strength of 
your love,” she continued, by availing yourself in the 
future of the noble gifts with which you are so lavishly 
endowed. • 

Years may obliterate the past and bring back to me the 
trust I had placed in you. Then — then ” — 

Ere Yan Alden had lifted his gaze Helen had lefb the 
room. 


2o8 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

On reaching home, Gertie Howard, having changed her 
street attire, descended to the hall, crossed the court yard 
and entered the annex that had been added recently to the 
house, which served as a sculptor’s studio. 

Entering, Martini nodded a smiling welcome, saying : I 
expected you home ere now. How pale you look ! ” he 
exclaimed, anxiously, noticing her wan face. ‘‘ Has any- 
thing happened to you ? Where is Flora ? , 

‘‘ The dear child is with Aunt Dorothea I met a former 
schoolmate unexpectedly. I sincerely wish I had not met 
her,” she continued, in a regretful tone, and added, slowly, 

she is — Van Alden’s — betrothed. I am sorry you never 
mentioned her name to me.” 

Martini raised his eyes in astonishment and gazed at her 
inquiringly. 

^^Yes!” reiterated Gertie, it was Helen Powell,” and 
then related their meeting; how Van Alden joined them, 
and the child’s recognition of its father. 

Her communication made Martini thoughtful. After 
a pause he asked, ‘‘ How did Miss Powell receive tlie 
tidings ? ” 

Gertie’s wan face and moistened eyes interpreted 
more than words could have expressed. 

A sad smile illumined Martini’s face. As much as he 
regretted that an innocent and (as he had heard), a 
noble-minded girl must suffer, he could not help a feeling 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


209 


of satisfaction because of the knowledge that a blow liad 
been struck to that wretch, that must make him reel and 
wince — at least for a time. It is the hand of Provi- 
dence!” he exclaimed. ‘‘Yes! and struck through the 
agency of one belonging to me.” 

Martini had taken apartments with Mrs. Mansfield 
(Gertie’s aunt), with whom Gertie had lived for the past 
year. The young woman felt herself irresistably drawn 
towards the winsome child. With Martini’s approval she 
had taken entire charge of Flora. 

Gertie’s sweet disposition and her fondness for the 
child, whose mother’s sad history she had learned, tended 
to draw her and Martini into a friendship, culminating 
on Gertie’s part, in a deeper sentiment. 

To the motherless child Martini would secure Gertie’s 
care and devotion. If he is unable to offer her a lover- 
like affection, he could at least tell her that he would make 
her a considerate, kind husband. 

Gertie accepted what he had offered. 

A smile of satisfaction o’erspread the blind artist’s 
countenance as he listened to Martini’s communication of 
the facts related by Gertie. 

With this much he must content himself for the 
present. A spell of sickness confining him still to his 
room, had prevented the consummation of his contemplated 
aggressive steps. 


210 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XL. 

Four months had elapsed since Van Alden’s last inter- 
view with Helen. She had left the room ere he could 
collect his senses and regain his composure, that had never 
before so utterly deserted him. When aware that Helen 
had left the room he made an attempt to follow her. 
Finding the door barred, he implored her to listen to 
him, if but for a moment. The door opened, and the 
Judge entering, said, in a firm voice: “My niece bids me 
to tell you to spare her further pain. Her resolution is 
irrevocable. Knowing her so well, I must say that she 
could not have acted otherwise. 

“No word of mine,” he continued, “shall add to your 
grief — sincere at present. You must overcome it, and 
you will undoubted!}" succeed after a time. You erred in 
your judgment of Helen, Mr. Van Alden, and thereby 
you have inflicted on her a wound which must last long 
and which time alone can heal.” 

The following day Frank had a stormy interview with 
his uncle. 

They separated, never to meet in life again. 

Van Alden undoubtedly loved Helen with as much sin- 
cerity and depth as he was capable. 

Dejection took possession of him when the letter he had 
addressed her, explaining everything satisfactorily (as he 
thought), was returned to him unopened. 

How cruel of her ! he had exclaimed. How unfairly 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 


2II 


she treats me. She has no right to resent a past love 
affair ! He had kept faith with her ! Where could she 
find a man guileless? He could have told her that it 
was his love for her, and his desire for an honest union 
with her that had impelled him, and necessitated his break- 
ing with Clare. How heartless she must be herself, to 
infiict on him such cruel punishment ! 

Awake or with eyes closed, he could not efface from 
memory Helen’s lovely image. And yet, he must forget 
her. As lovely as she is, and how much he may covet her, 
he would never lower his manhood to seek reinstatement in 
the love of a woman who could sacrifice her plighted troth 
because of an overwrought mind and unwarranted prudish 
sentiment. 

His was not the sorrow, the bitter grief that springs from 
love not reciprocated — a grief that will sting to the quick, 
and tends to shipwreck the soul — nay — even life. A fury 
raged within his heart and mind, because, the first time in 
his life, his covetousness had received a check. The Eden 
that had opened to his gaze had suddenly closed its portals 
and barred his entrance. 

Helen’s last encouraging words had failed in their effect. 

Van Alden’s mind could not divine her thoughts, that 
were beyond his own horizon. Instead, grasping the ho23es 
lield out to him — hopes that should have been an incentive 
to prove the sincerity and constancy of the love Helen was 
justified in doubting — he applied himself to the task of 
forgetting the first great disappointment life had brought 
him. 

The manner in which he attempted it — if it did not assist 


212 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


him in forgetting at once — deadened, at least, the better 
sentiments Helen had awakened within him. 

It is too sad a picture to trace his now riotous life — pam- 
pered by false conceptions, and nourished by the old habits 
returning to him. Nothing revenges itself so completely 
on us as our follies and misdeeds. Retribution is sure to 
come sooner or later. Few are spared ! 

* -jf * * 

In front of a brown stone mansion an excited crowd of 
men and women had congregated and were eagerly discuss- 
ing the tragedy that had been enacted within. 

Policemen barred the entrance to all but the law official. 

Upon the velvet carpet in the front parlor, saturated 
with the warm life-blood still oozing from a wound, lies 
the unfortunate victim of a night’s brawl. 

Close to the body crouches the terrified form of a beau- 
tiful woman, her costly white dress besmeared with crimson 
stains. Policemen and physicians surround the lifeless 
body. 

The following morning the papers gave a sensational ac- 
count of the murder of one of New York’s most prominent 
gentlemen, Mr. Frank Van Alden, committed in the house 

of the beautiful divorced wife of Mr. Robert L , who, 

of late, had borne a doubtful reputation. 

The woman had beguiled the wealthy young bachelor — 
who eventually became the object of jealousy on the part 
of a discarded lover. By the connivance of one of the 
servants, her former lover had secreted himself in the house 
awaiting Van Alden’s visit. 


VAN AIvDEN, JR. 213 

On the latter’s arrival he suddenly entered the parlor, and 
in the sculfle ensuing had taken his rival’s life. 

Diligent search had been instituted for the apprehension 
of the perpetrator of the crime ; so far witliout result. 

The many friends of the unfortunate victim will mourn 
the loss of a gentleman whose promising future has been 
nipped in the heyday of life. 


214 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


CHAPTER XLL 

The picturesque town of Morganville, with its many 
large factories, and towering chimneys with their volumes 
of black smoke, denote the place as the seat of thriving 
industry. 

Traversing the main business thoroughfare, as far as the 
Baptist Church, one approaches the environs inhabited by 
the nabobs of the town. 

Judge Brown’s residence is one of the handsomest with 
which the rising and sloping ground is studded. 

In the spacious, handsome drawing room twilight had 
cast its shadow. Helen is seated before an upright piano. 
Her superbly arched fingers are gliding swiftly over the 
ivory keys. 

Music exerts a powerful infiuence in soothing the troubled 
mind. Helen, after her return from New York, had paid 
a visit to her teacher and friend, and had confided to her 
the sorrow of her heart. 

Mrs. Loewenhaupt had kissed her tenderly, saying : 
“You are the brave girl I always knew you to be. I fully 
approve of your resolution. The pillar on which you built 
your love, and that should have upheld it, has been shaken 
to its very foundation. A man in whom wealth and opu- 
lence has created an unquenching thirst for pleasure, and a 
proclivity that carries with it shame and despair to others, 
must be sickened at heart ; and even a pure, good woman 
like yourself could not restore its soundness. Patience and 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


215 


work, dear Helen, and the marvelous recuperating power 
of time will knit the fragments of your heart and bring 
to you peace and even happiness again.” 

Helen’s life these last two months had been spent in 
pursuits that occupied lier mind. The best remedy to allay 
the depression of the heart and mind, is constant occu- 
pation. 

Helen’s figure had somewhat lost its roundness, but noth- 
ing of its graceful elegance. Her face looked pale — ^barely 
a tint of color in it. Her beautiful hair was coiled and held 
together by a handsome ornament. Her dress — a black 
cashmere, heightened the pallor of her face. 

The twilight and the early evening hours she had dedi- 
cated to rest and meditation — even if it brought to her 
memory the painful past. 

One never craves for a bitter fruit once tasted ; but it is 
different with the bitterness that love has brought. 

An irresistible force brings to our mind again and again 
its first sweet dreams ; the bliss with which it had filled the 
heart, the hopes we had built upon it, and fills us with a 
longing and regret for the irreparable loss. 

The love Helen had renounced often came back to her. 
She often felt that she could receive it once more. 

Alas ! she thought, can there be lasting happiness in a 
love that brings with it doubts, fears and and even distrust. 

Distrust had aroused in her the subtle poison which dis- 
organized the foundation upon which her love was built. 

A noble character like hers will remain firm to its prin- 
ciples, and has no difficulty in deciding what is right. 

Helen grieved more because of the pain she was obliged 


2i6 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


to inflict on Van Alden than of her own. Her re very was 
interrupted by approaching footsteps. To her surprise the 
Judge, accompanied by Phoebe Armitage, entered the room. 
‘^What brought you to me, dear Phoebe, at this time 
of day?’’ she exclaimed, in astonishment, greeting her 
affectionately. 

“ What sober faces you both have,” she added, noticing 
their sad look. “Has your husband disappointed you, 
and not returned from New York? And you, dear Uncle, 
have you lost an important law suit?” 

“Oh! I understand you now,” she said, with a smile. 
“ Misery loves company, and you two have entered into a 
co-partnership for this evening ; but do not count on me to 
become the third to the compact. No such thing, for I 
feel unusually happy this evening. Mrs. Loring is pro- 
gressing so nicely ; Dr. Morgan assures me of her ultimate 
recovery.” 

“ The dear girl that you are,” rejoined Phoebe, “ to re- 
joice in the good fortune of others while bravely flghting 
your own sorrows. Yes, dear Helen,” she continued, “I 
feel miserable ; the Judge feels miserable — we all feel 
miserable.” Saying this she burst into sobs. 

Helen seemed calm; only a slight quivering of her lips 
betrayed her agitation. She gazed inquiringly into the 
Judge’s pale face, who had not spoken a word. Approach- 
ing Mrs. Armitage, Helen seated herself upon a low stool, 
close to her friend, and asked : “ Is it your misfortune or 

mine that brought you here, and that makes you so miser- 
able ? I would rather it were mine,” she continued, “ for 
I am steeled to all that may come to me. Tell me — that it 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 217 

is not yours — do! Please, dear Phoebe — tell me — is it 
mine ? ” ' 

Receiving no reply, Helen again gazed at the Judge in- 
quiringly, and now heheld the tears that had stolen into his 
eyes. ‘‘ I know now, dear Phoebe, that it is mine. Why, 
shedding tears ! Look — mine are dry. Really, dear Phoebe, 
you are foolish to take it so to heart, when I, — divining, — 
remain calm. 

He — is he engaged — or married ? ” she now asked, with 
a tremor in her voice. “ If so, you need not grieve. ’T is 
true, I told him to come to me again ; but I told him that 
much for his sake — not for mine ; he had seemed so 
wretched. If he has forgotten me so soon — the better for 
him. 

‘‘ Not married ! ” Helen exclaimed, perceiving her friend’s 
nod in the negative. “ Is he ill — dangerously ill ? ” she 
queried, anxiously, “ have I hit him so hard that he reeled 
upon the sick bed ? He must love me better than I thought 
him capable.” Rising suddenly to her feet, and hastily 
approaching the Judge, she threw herself, with a sob, on 
his breast, saying, “ I must go to him ; indeed, I must.” 

The Judge, bending his head, imprinted a tender kiss 
upon her brow, and said, solemnly, ‘^My dear child, he has 
been unworthy of your love; to his memory, even, you 
must close your heart ; waste not one stroke of its pulsation, 
but pray that God will have mercy on his soul.” 

* * * * 

The gilded iron gates are swinging on their mass'* ve 
hinges and are opening to the solemn funeral cortege 


2i8 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


approaching its sacred precinct that is about to receive and 
harbor the clay of one who had borne an honored name, 
and had been destined to add, if possible, to its lustre, but 
whose last breath had cast a shadow — nay, — brought 
disgrace upon it. 

A mighty power had been left to his keeping — a power for 
good or evil, — that could have brought him all life is worth 
living for. Misusing it, it had turned on him and inserted 
its fangs into his body and soul, thereby avenging its 
abuse. 

The icy, blustering wind jerked the wreaths of white 
flowers decorating the bejewelled coffin, tossing them in the 
air and scattering them gently upon the tombstones of both 
his parents. 

A thrill of awe shot through the mourners assembled 
around the grave, on beholding the coffin denuded of the 
emblems of purity. 


VAN ALDEN, JR. 


219 


CHAPTER XLII. 

Two years have elapsed. Reuben Van Alden with little 
Flora stands before his nephew’s grave and the one adjoin- 
ing, in which Clare’s body had been reinterred. 

The old aristocrat had set the law in motion, and the 
tribunal had vindicated Clare by a decree that she had 
been Van Alden’s lawful wife — the child to be his lawful 
heiress. 

Tears moisten his eyes as they scatter flowers upon the 
graves. 

In a palatial mansion, awaiting the return of Reuben Van 
Alden and Flora, sits the blind artist. On their entrance 
he kisses his grandchild tenderly ; then addressing the old 
aristocrat, says, “ I can only pray for the well-being of this, 
to us both, dear child. You, my friend, must watch over 
her welfare. 

Reuben Van Alden presses the blind man’s hand, and 
with deep feeling says : “ I shall do my duty towards her.” 

* * * * 

It is the last stroke upon his latest work. Martini’s mas- 
terpiece is finished. 

Gertie, his wife, with her first born on her knee, gazes 
on Clare’s life-like bust. Turning lovingly to her husband, 
she exclaims : ‘‘ Poor Clare ! had she known you as I know 
you, where would I have found such happiness as mine ? ” 

Martini looks in^o the bright, happy face, and, with a 


^20 VAN AI^DEN, JR. 

mischievous smile, rejoins : In the love of a better man 
than myself.” 

* * * * 

The church is thronged : its approaches are lined with 
spectators, for one of the handsomest and foremost young 
ladies of Morganville is about to become the wife of an 
Englishman — a member of Parliament. 

A hush spreads over the assemblage. 

The peals of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March sound in 
their ears. 

Presently the bride, leaning on the arm of the bride- 
groom, followed by the Judge and friends, emerge from 
the sacred edifice, and enter the carriages in waiting. 

An hour later Helen is bidding farewell to the Judge, 
who, clasping her tightly to his heart, says : God bless 
you, my dear child. I am happy in the knowledge that you 
have found the happiness you so well deserve.” 

* * * * 

Dear, dear Helen ! How happy I am ! ” exclaimed 
Lady Darvey, embracing her affectionately. “ My brother 
brought you no ducal crown, but a royal heart. He loved 
you all these years, and at last his love has been rewarded 
with yours. Am I right ? ” 

Helen blushes crimson as she gazes lovingly into her hus- 
band’s face. 

Herbal’s happy smile tells all. 


THE END. 








» »• \ ^' • 


r A 


)■ ■ - *''■ •■*■ •*.*■ /-Vi^ 

’■’■ " ‘^ • ■■V.-' ■ ■ '-w. 

.,v ^- •• ■• y •' ■ ' 

: ■.y,:'-^ ■ ■ ■ ’*-- • . • ' '■ ' 

B 

•i 


.» • 


y-t ■ ' ‘ 




‘..v - 

ti • ■ 


. * ' " 



> 


• 4. 


y *’■ ■ L*_1. >? •' " ‘ 'iT>^ V V-y*Jt "' ■ ■ 

"'•A’ ‘ ^^''‘'vv+C^' . • 

.v^:i; 



t' '\r»f ,T 


•y , 


»' > ~ 






' ^ ' ' ' r '^ *■• •' ^ * ■ * 



r--' •- 


' » A..! 

#4 -M 


■■ 



I 

V 


!• • A - 

y-y • 

' •'\ f *'v •■• '* 

‘.#1 ^ i* A 

V ‘ % 




.. - .-''Vj;'. .\ 

V. rf- • . , •, L 


■ : . ■ ■ - .,- ■"' >'. 

■■ - “ 'v^y- .y>y 



. . -' 4 '- 


^ ■ , • ■ , 

■ *. , i, ' ' V • ‘ • 

. • • J[ y' y . I ' 

^ t /• . • • • . . . » 

. ^ • cV I \^ '■' . » 1 i -*♦*' 

'-. ';>■ 




’ ' 

a: . ^ 

* - ♦ y 

ri -s 


• ‘W V .-■ ‘ 

' •** »:•'> ■• T *.-• ' .■ 


‘t 



• * . ■ • ■ ri: . •_ - 



W- ' . ■*■■ ' '■ - 


-*•>£ 


V r*^* ’cs yj" ^ 

4?^ • r 

'■■: :.‘#^ ».y..r"- {^... '■ 




••'K 


■y-T 

' » " 


w r -*« 

* ,' • 




r^K iV 

y >s.‘ • • •; 



»• 

;• • *. 

* ■ ' V 


* \ 


..• > > 

.♦ *<- ' 




•\ " 




M ( 



; r/& ^Ic*L ^ ■' ■ ' '-»'^ 

i vt» : .. ,.■ .X 

- ■■ > . S*v V - 


I . 


r • • 







■ 

W: 




&•■;/ iS'C4'^ '.. =S^ 

ijfey.v’ iSiw ■■■ '"'■ i 



•'t‘ 










. 1 . • V- /• 'i ' 




r 















